


Saving What We Love

by naboojakku



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, COMPLETE!!!!, Child Abandonment, Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Drinking Games, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food Issues, Forced Proximity, Forehead Kisses, Foster Care, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Goofy Ben Solo, HEA, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Light Angst, Lots of Warmth and Affection and Fluff During These Trying Times, Love Confessions, Mental Health Issues, Missionary Position, Mutual Pining, Nicknames, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pet Names, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Protective Ben Solo, Rey (Star Wars) is a Mess, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Slow Burn, So Sweet It'll Rot Your Teeth, Soft boi Ben, all my favorite tropes tho, ben is 30, just really soft for the most part, mention of anal sex, minimal/low angst, minimal/low drama, rey is 21, sex in chap 16, well most of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 113,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboojakku/pseuds/naboojakku
Summary: What's a girl to do when quarantine starts? Why, temporarily move in with her super hot but totally off-limits best friend, of course! (He is off-limits...right?) Rey wants to get through this thing with all her mental faculties in check. Ben's plans, however, are a bit more complex.Food: stockedGames: categorizedAlcohol: in reserveToilet Paper: hoardedLocked: downTL;DR: In which Ben and Rey are voluntarily quarantined together for two weeks. Includes: copious amounts of fluff, discussion of mental illness, and way too many hours of Animal Crossing. Feel-good read during these batshit crazy times.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 413
Kudos: 704
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Sound the Alarm

**Author's Note:**

> **my first Reylo fanfic evaaaaaa**
> 
> **not beta read // all mistakes are my own**

Rey entered her apartment and stopped mid-stride. 

Her mind was in the midst of some rapidfire calculations. After her shift ended at the diner, Rey had bolted the seven blocks home. Her thoughts had begun categorizing tasks: organize the food pantry, make a grocery list, check in with friends, tally up cleaning supplies, count rolls of toilet paper (apparently?), and do anything else imminently at risk by the pandemic. 

Rey was nothing if not a survivor, so she honestly wasn’t all that worried, but part of being self-sufficient was making sure you had the means to keep living when all else went to hell. 

She’d known of the diner’s closure for three days now, and since the moment it became clear she’d have no income for the foreseeable future, Rey had taken on shift after shift after shift. 

Shifts offered up by struggling parents who suddenly found themselves with kids out of school.

Shifts offered up by her elderly coworkers who didn’t want to risk it in such a public atmosphere. 

Shifts that had remained uncovered for days now because people were succumbing to panic and dropping like flies. 

Not Rey. 

She’d worked a thirteen-hour shift followed by a ten-hour shift and then, today, a twelve-hour shift. Her last one until this pandemic started to peter off. She’d made a couple hundred dollars, and if she spent carefully and wisely, it would last her at least a month. 

And then the real panic would set in.

But Rey wouldn’t think about that. Not now. Not when things needed to be done. Not when there was food to be meticulously checked, double-checked, and categorized. 

All of this was on Rey’s mind when she opened the door to her apartment and found several things missing.

She didn’t own much. Never had and probably never would. Since her parents had died in a mid-air collision on their way home from a humanitarian mission when she was 5, Rey had been shuffled around foster homes until the system spat her out at age 18. That was three years ago now, and she had collected only the essentials - what _she_ deemed essentials anyway - in her residence. 

There were no trinkets, no extra decorations, no cherished mementos. The foster homes hadn’t allowed it. Anytime she began to care for something - be it a piece of cloth, a tiny wooden figurine, even a dirty feather found in the park - some other kid would inevitably find out and take it from her. 

Rey was old enough now to recognize what loss felt like. How it dug into your heart, burrowed there, until there was no way to harmlessly extract it. How it weighed on your chest like a sack of bricks. How it emphasized the bags under sleep-deprived eyes. Rey recognized, and she avoided.

But as her eyes quickly swept the tiny living room, as they flickered through the doorway into her miniscule kitchenette, the absence of certain items - cherished all the more for their essentialism - became glaringly obvious.

Her two grungy sofa pillows were missing. So was her charging cord, which she always kept plugged into the outlet closest to the couch. The yellow scarf she’d thrown over the back of a kitchen chair after coming home from work yesterday was gone.

Rey moved further into the apartment, body stiff with tension. Her heart had accelerated, and her palms were clammy, but she was keeping the panic at bay. She’d always been pretty good at pushing away useless emotions. 

In the kitchen, Rey noticed the door to her pantry was open. She always left it closed for fear of bugs or some wild animal (she lived in the city, but she never messed around when it came to food) getting in. Now, she crossed the kitchen in two quick strides and yanked on the pantry door. It swung all the way open, revealing more missing items. A bottle of ketchup. Her two remaining boxes of cereal. Several cans of tuna and beans. 

Heart in her throat, Rey raced into the bathroom. Her toothbrush. A box of soap. Her shampoo and conditioner. Her hairbrush. Even her single box of tampons was missing!

 _What’s going on?_ she thought with increasing alarm. _This doesn’t make any sense!_

Clearly someone had broken into her apartment while she was at work. Rey didn’t understand how, considering the door had been locked when she opened it, and nothing about the door jamb hinted at forced entry. Even stranger, only random items had been taken. _Ketchup?_ That was bizarre, and even more so when she considered that the TV was still on its stand in the corner of the living room.

Her bedroom yielded the worst results. Her closet was nearly empty - all shirts, sweaters, jackets, and shoes had been taken. Rey wore only mascara and sometimes eyeliner, and both those tubes were gone from her bureau. Her cloud-white duvet. The giant pillow she’d gotten on sale at Macy’s. 

Rey was shaking now. Nothing was adding up. Why would someone break in and only take seemingly random items? Worse, why take the things that were most important to her? _How_ did they know what was essential?

Confusion and panic were neck-and-neck, and instead of doing something extremely unproductive - like throwing herself on the floor, curling into a ball, and sobbing until her throat ached - Rey marched into the kitchen and pulled out her phone. Eyes assessing, she began to dial the police, and that’s when her front door opened.

Spinning around, Rey thought frantically of the few martial arts moves she knew. _Go for the throat! Use your elbow! Wait, was it the elbow? Don’t let them take you to the car because your chances of survival -_

Hand on the doorknob, Ben Solo gave her a strange look. “Does this mean you’re ready?”

Rey faltered, bringing her hands down to her sides. She didn’t really understand anything about kung fu, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try and karate-chop her way out of this.

“Ben…” She sucked in a huge breath. “WHAT IS GOING ON.”

“Whoa.” He dropped the tote bag hanging from his arm and extended his palms in a placating gesture. “What’s with you?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY APARTMENT.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Hesitantly, he bent down to pick up the tote, and snatched it back up like she might attack while his defenses were lowered.

“HEAR WHAT?”

“Ah, you didn’t.” Rolling his eyes now, Ben shuffled by her and into the kitchen, where he opened the door and proceeded to stuff food into the bag.

Gaping, Rey followed his progress around the kitchen as he packed up her things. “Ben, are you going to explain to me…?”

“It’s the Stay-At-Home initiative,” he went on casually, as if Rey weren’t about to pop a blood vessel. “Everything closes at 9 p.m. tonight.”

A vague memory swam to the surface of Rey’s mind. She remembered hearing an announcement from the governor earlier today, but since she’d been in the middle of serving five tables, she hadn’t dedicated much attention to it.

“What about it?” Cringing, she watched as he threw packets of day-old duck sauce in the tote.

“No one’s allowed to leave,” he continued, setting the now-full tote on the kitchen table.

Maybe it was the shock of finding her apartment half-empty, or maybe it was the unexpectedness of seeing her best friend again after a week apart, but Rey was really not following. “Huh?”

“Rey,” he said with an exasperated huff. He extended his long arms and gripped her by the shoulders. “We’re going into lockdown. No one is allowed to leave their house for the next two weeks.”

Rey continued to gape.

“The governor figured since people aren’t listening - honestly, the general public’s social distancing is really sub-par,” Ben said with derision, “he’s going to do the next best thing to beat this pandemic: lock everyone up.”

She finally found her voice. “Oh.” Then, after she’d managed to process a little more: “But then why are you _here_? Stealing my _ketchup_?” She was really offended about the ketchup.

“I’m here to take you to my place,” he said with a shrug, as if this was obvious.

“And why would I be going to your place when I have my own place? Ben,” she said, rubbing a tired hand over her forehead, “this is all a little much. It’s been a long day, so can you just -”

“Rey.” Moving closer, hands still on her shoulders, Ben loomed over her. If she hadn’t known him so well - if his personality had been a little closer to grizzly bear than teddy bear - Rey would have been intimidated. As it was…

“Nuh-uh. Nope. You’re not going to force me into whatever this is.” Shaking her head, Rey tried to skirt around him, but unfortunately for her, he was massive and she was, in comparison, very little. 

But Ben was unrelenting. “ _You_ live alone. _I_ live alone. Two weeks in isolation? Neither of us will make it.”

“So you’re saying…?”

Ben grinned. “We’re going to have a sleepover, of course. A two-week, not-allowed-to-go-anywhere-or-do-anything sleepover!”

Rey couldn’t help but smile faintly back at him. He was just so... _genuine_.

“That’s why you’re stealing all my food.”

With a solemn nod and very heavy eye-contact, Ben repeated, “That’s why I’m stealing all your food.”

She sighed - gustily. But it was only for drama’s sake. Inside, she was actually relieved. No thieves were making off with her pillows and her bottle of ketchup. She wouldn’t be alone for two endless weeks, stuck inside her tiny apartment with no face-to-face contact. 

Don’t get her wrong: limited contact with people was Rey’s status quo, especially after working a long and grueling - and often unpleasant - shift at the diner. But two weeks was just a little too much, even for her. 

Rey looked up into Ben’s face beseechingly. “Are you sure?”

And because they were usually on the same page - current circumstances notwithstanding - Ben dipped down and bumped his nose against hers. “Of course I’m sure, Reybear. Uninterrupted time with you is on my list of Top-Five Ways to Spend A Pandemic-Inspired Lockdown.”

With a laugh, Rey grabbed his hands in hers and squeezed. Suddenly she was feeling a lot more optimistic about the coming weeks. “Well, just so you know, you’re also in my top-five.”

“That’s a relief.” Ben grabbed the tote bag off the table and marched her towards the front door. “Have everything you need?”

Rey sent him a flat look. “You tell me.”

With another grin - cheeky bordering on arrogant - Ben pulled her down the driveway to his car. “I think we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	2. Built On Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and/or commented! I appreciate it more than I can say, and the feedback only makes me more motivated to writeeeee**

**DAY ONE**

Rey awoke in Ben’s townhouse with a sneeze.

“I hate allergies,” she mumbled, swinging her legs to the floor. 

For a moment her head swam, as did the room around her, and she placed a steadying hand against her forehead. Nothing about the room looked familiar, and it took a beat too long for last night’s events to come flooding back. 

Ben Solo. In her apartment. Stocking up her clothes and food. Telling her about the 2-week lockdown. Dragging her to his place. Holding her elbow as she stumbled into the guest room. Letting her face-plant on the freshly laundered comforter. Flicking out the lights. 

Her last thought before falling asleep? 

_It feels like home here._

Now, in the early morning sunshine, things once more felt optimistic. Sure, they couldn’t leave the house for weeks, but at least she wasn’t alone. 

_At least she wasn’t alone._

With a sigh, Rey entered the adjacent guest bathroom and set about washing her face, brushing her teeth, and twisting her hair into her signature three-bun style. She was still in last night’s clothes, and they smelled of the diner - frying meats, cigarette smoke, and syrup. 

With a shudder - Rey hated being dirty in any capacity; it reminded her of her childhood - she shucked off her clothes and pulled on a pair of Ben’s sweatpants and a tank-top. She had to roll the waistband of the sweatpants up half a dozen times - another reminder of just how big Ben was - and although the top sagged well past her hips, the best she could do was tuck it in, which was…. Well, let’s just say she wouldn’t be winning any fashion awards. 

Rey stepped into the hallway and slowly made her way to the kitchen. Unlike her own apartment, the kitchen, living room, and bedroom here were not all within a twenty-foot radius. 

No, Ben had _money_ , and on the rare occasions they hung out at his place, Rey would always find something new to gawk at or exclaim over. As she touched an expensive-looking piece of art near the central staircase, she was reminded all over again how much better Ben lived. 

For starters, there was an upstairs _and_ a downstairs - an unheard-of amenity, as far as Rey was concerned. There were three bedrooms, two baths, a study, and an exercise room on the second floor. A combination library-piano room, kitchen, living room, bathroom, and open-air deck made up the first floor. 

There was no clutter, no random trinkets or ostentatious decor, much like her own apartment. But understated art lined the walls, chrome fixtures gleamed in the kitchen, and the townhouse as a whole was seemingly always in a state of undisturbed cleanliness. Everything was seamlessly well-maintained, and Rey had to admire Ben’s taste, especially since he was rarely there to see it. 

In her borrowed sweats, with unwashed hair and grease-stained fingertips, Rey couldn’t help but feel like a glaringly out-of-place stain.

She turned the corner into the kitchen and found Ben already at the sink. Sneakily, she peeked around his broad frame. He was vigorously washing those large hands of his. 

“Are you...humming?”

Without even a pause, Ben nodded and said, “You’re supposed to wash your hands for the duration of the Happy Birthday song.” He then added, casually, “Nice try, by the way.”

Rey pouted. She hadn’t scared him. “Maybe next time,” she muttered, and plopped down at a stool facing the island tabletop. She tapped her nails against the granite. 

Ben dried his hands off on a towel and arched an eyebrow.

“Breakfast?” she asked hopefully.

“Hmm,” he replied, eyes narrowed.

Rey did not know what to make of this, and it was too early for a suitable comeback, so she tried again. 

“Break” - she pointed at the refrigerator - “fast?”

Ben’s stern expression remained for an additional five seconds, and then it dissolved into a grin. He turned towards the stove to reveal a plate full of omelettes. 

Rey rolled her eyes. “You’re weird in the morning.” 

He plopped an empty plate before her, then gestured at the array of omelettes. Ham and cheese, spinach, and mixed veggie. She considered seriously, pointed at the spinach, and rubbed her hands gleefully together as he slid the chosen one on her plate. 

“Maybe you’re just a little slow-going in the morning,” Ben said, sliding onto the stool next to her. He tapped a knuckle against the side of her head.

“ _Hey!_ ” she grumbled through a mouthful of egg. Swallowing, she stuck her fork threateningly at him. “Not while I’m eating.” 

Ben hunched his massive shoulders, as if chastised, but a smile lurked on his lips as he aimed a forkful of food at them.

Breakfast was a relatively calm affair, due in part to the reverent quiet Rey demanded whenever food was in front of her. Whatever else people said about her, they couldn’t complain about food waste. 

Rey shoveled in forkful after forkful, as if afraid someone may take it away if she wasn’t fast enough. Still, she was careful not to eat so quickly she made herself sick. That had happened often enough for her to be embarrassed just thinking about it.

With a satisfied exhale, Rey set down her utensils some five minutes later. She wasn’t surprised to see half an omelette still left on Ben’s plate; in the race to finish first, Rey always won. 

Ben paused to sip from his water glass, watching her over the rim. 

“What?” she asked once his stare became uncomfortable. 

He only shook his head. 

Rey frowned but decided to leave it. “Where are all my clothes?” 

“I packed them up in some suitcases,” he replied, using his fork to gesture. “They’re in the guest room.” 

Rey blinked, trying to remember if she’d seen any suitcases this morning. 

“The _other_ guest room, Rey.”

“Oh, right,” she said, wincing. Duh. “Well, in that case, I’m gonna take a shower.”

Ben plucked the last bite of his breakfast off his fork and stood up, collecting their plates. He planted a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll take care of these. If you need any soap or towels, there are extras under the sink.”

Rey headed for the stairs, wondering why he just happened to have extra toiletries lying about, when Ben’s voice made her pause. 

“Don’t take too long,” he called, and if he hadn’t been facing away from her, Rey could’ve sworn he was grinning again. “I have a surprise for when you come back!”

Rey’s face brightened. “Is it -“

“It’s _not_ a kitty, Rey,” he interrupted, and even from halfway up the staircase his exasperation was clear. 

Grumbling, she trudged the rest of the way to the bathroom. 

**\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Rey found herself showered and dressed - this time in jeans her size and a long-sleeved shirt with an embroidered floral pattern - in record time. She leaped back down the staircase, taking a moment to compose herself at the bottom, before rounding the corner. She couldn’t help it - Rey had always been a sucker for surprises.

Ben was sitting on the couch, long legs crossed at the ankles on the coffee table. His head was bent, his attention focused downward.

For a brief - albeit tempting - second, Rey considered sneaking up on him again. But then she remembered her very unsubtle trounce down the stairs, and she knew that even with his attention diverted there was no way she’d startle him now. He always seemed to know where she was. 

With a wistful sigh, she plopped down next to him on the couch, bending her legs pretzel-style. He still didn’t look up.

“Day one!” she announced, tapping her fingers rhythmically on her knees. “What’s the plan?”

“You smell nice,” he commented after a moment. 

Rey frowned. Did that mean she’d smelled _unpleasant_ before? She shook her head and tried again. “What’s this surprise I’ve been hearing about?”

Ben finally looked up, a big smile on his face, and thrust something at her. “MadLibs!”

“Mad-?” Rey took the small booklet out of his hand. She scanned the contents. “Huh.”

Ben’s enthusiasm wavered. “Are you disappointed?”

Rey wasn’t, but even if that hadn’t been the case, she would not be the monster to erase his excitement. “ _No_ , not at all. I didn’t expect…” She trailed off, then blurted, “I’ve never done one before.”

His eyes popped wide. “Rey.”

“I know, I know.” She shook her head mournfully, and he did the same. “A true travesty.”

“Which we will remedy _right_ now.” Ben snatched the booklet back and flipped to a new page. “Ready?”

Rey couldn’t help but laugh a little. “ _Ben_. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Something shifted in his eyes, too quick for her to analyze. He bopped her nose with the tip of his pen instead and held up the booklet.

“Noun.”

She immediately shifted into Competitive Game Mode. “Trashcan.”

“Plural noun.”

“Bikes.”

He wrote these down in his perfect calligraphic font. “Two verbs, present tense.”

Rey hummed thoughtfully. “Smile and… cackle.”

He smiled a little. “Part of the body. Plural.”

“Oooo, ingrown toenails!”

“Rey.”

“Right,” she said with a sigh. “Fine. Earlobes.”

“Adjective.”

“Funky.”

“Plural noun.”

“Knives.”

“Last one. Ad-“

“Really?” Rey assumed they were usually much longer than this. 

He grinned. “This was just a warmup.”

“Oh, okay. That’s acceptable.”

He looked back down at the paper, but not before she saw his eye-roll . “Adjective.”

“Spicy.”

“Okay,” he said gravely, eyes on her. “Are you ready?”

“So ready,” she replied, with equal solemnity.

Ben cleared his throat and read, “Today every student has a computer small enough to fit into his **trashcan**.”

Rey pressed her lips tightly together to suppress a laugh. 

“He can solve any math problem by simply pushing the computer’s little **bikes**. Computers can add, multiply, divide, and **smile**. They can also **cackle** better than a human.”

At this, Rey stuttered out a laugh. “Hey, that actually fits!”

Ben gave her an endearing look. “Some computers are **earlobes**. Others have a **funky** screen that shows all kinds of **knives** and **spicy** figures.”

Rey couldn’t help herself: she burst out laughing. She bent over, holding her stomach. “Is that what they’re all like?” she asked breathlessly.

Ben never laughed easily. Nor did he do it freely; his laughs were rare and precious. So when a single laugh popped unexpectedly from his mouth, startling them both, Rey’s amusement redoubled.

“And it’s titled, “The Magic Computers,” he added, seemingly troubled.

Maybe it was his tone, or the fact that he was trying to make sense out of something purely senseless, but Rey lost it. She fell back on the sofa, clutching her stomach and wheezing with laughter. She kept seeing his face: the furrowed brow, the slight, confused twist of his mouth, the cross look in his eyes.

Ben, to his credit, remained stumped. “Why would they -”

“ _No!_ ” she gasped. “Ben, _stop_.” Wiping tears from her eyes, Rey held out a hand. “Stop talking, _please_.”

Ben grumbled but held his silence until she calmed down. Then: “It’s only day one of this quarantine, you know, and you’re already losing it.”

That sobered her up right quick. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Do you want to do more?”

Rey bounced upright, grabbing his shoulder in her excitement. “Of course! How many are there?”

In answer, Ben held up the booklet and fanned through it with his thumb. “I’d say at least fifty,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Rey’s smile bloomed, and she clapped her hands. “Do another one!”

Ben hesitated, then smoothed a hand over a loose wave of hair that had fallen in her face. He left his hand there, lightly cupping her cheek, for a long moment before moving away. His eyes were so soft; Rey’s heart stuttered a little.

“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. “Another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **these cuties will probably [erm definitely] be the death of me.**


	3. Let Me Look On You With My Own Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note: For those who may be unaware, "SFW" stands for "Safe For Work."**

****

**DAY TWO**

Rey was wandering the townhouse the next day, not-so-subtly examining every inch of Ben’s belongings, when the sound of the TV caught her attention. Words like “widespread,” “unprecedented,” “exponential rise,” and “long-term consequences” drew her towards the living room where she found Ben perched on the arm of the sofa, eyes rapt.

She plopped down in a sea-green armchair and took a sip of her chai tea. On the TV were news reporters from a popular network. They looked to be in New York or some other large city. Wherever it was, the streets and sidewalks were vacant. To say it was eerie would be a colossal understatement.

“...the initial testing fiasco really deterred any progress the country could’ve made before the virus became so widespread,” the young Asian news anchor reported. “Now, with no vaccine and health professionals running on empty, the United States - and the world - must seriously ask themselves: Why aren’t we prepared for something like this?”

Rey and Ben sat in silence as he went on to talk about the US’s failing healthcare system, now shown to be very poorly equipped to deal with something on this scale, and how the failure to provide testing in any capacity was further damaging communities. 

Once the conversation turned to hospitals around the world and how they lacked hospital beds, equipment, and even staff as doctors, nurses, and administrators succumbed to the virus, Rey shut her eyes, as if that could drown out sound.

“I’m not sure I really want to listen to this,” she said quietly. “It only reached the U.S. a few weeks ago. Now this?” Total collapse of society was no longer just a quirky joke. What if the world didn’t recover from this?

Rey faced Ben, her expression bordering on pleading. “Let’s watch something else.”

She could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest before he spoke. “That...might be a good idea.”

He switched to one of those predictable sitcoms that overused a laugh track and ran pretty much all day. Rey was watching his face carefully, so she noticed the pursed lips and tense set to his jaw. She didn’t like to see him on edge, not when his normal personality was so happy-go-lucky. Stern, of course, but easygoing. 

“It’s good to be informed,” she said lightly, leaving the armchair and plopping down on the couch so she could pat his arm, “but maybe not on an _hourly_ basis.”

“Reybear,” he sighed, and shifted so he could sling an arm around her shoulders, bringing her up against him, “why are you so smart?”

She tilted her head back and smiled brightly. “I was born this way.”

Ben stared down at her, eyes thoughtful. She didn’t know what to make of that look, so she squirmed a little. “What?”

He bent down and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “I’m glad you’re with me now, Rey. Two weeks in isolation would be hard for me. But two weeks without seeing _you_? Torture.”

Rey valiantly held a blush at bay, even though it made her head pound with the effort. Ben had always been pretty free with his affections, and it never bothered her. But at the thought of reciprocating, she grew...flustered. 

PDA was...well, a fantasy, but likely not one she would ever enjoy. Her childhood had made sure of that. They weren’t in public now, true, but anything outside her own head that even hinted at intimacy made her vaguely alarmed.

 _He does this with everyone,_ she reminded herself unevenly. _Don’t be a baby. Real adults can kiss each other without being dramatic about it._

Right.

“What do you want to watch, then?” He gestured at the TV with the remote. “Because I’m assuming it’s not this.”

More canned laughter as the male leads playfully threw kitchen appliances at each other. Rey snorted. “How can anybody watch this unironically?”

“They don’t,” he deadpanned, then smiled. “So what are we feeling? Superhero movie? Baking show?”

Rey wasn’t particularly in the mood for heroics or baked goods, so she shrugged. “Whatever’s on, I guess.” She leaned her head back against the sofa and kicked her feet like an angry toddler. “How are we supposed to do this for _two weeks_? Already my skin’s crawling.”

“Uncrawl it!” he demanded, and Rey laughed at his intensity. “We just have to do the best we can. Everyone’s in the same boat, if it helps to think of it that way.” He began flicking rapidly through channels, narrating the options as he went.

“Hallmark movie. _Matchmaker Mysteries: A Killer_ -”

“No.”

“Wrestling? Hm, there’s no one in the arena...”

“Double no.”

“QVC? Looks like they’re selling some sort of volcano...jewelry line?”

“Absolutely not.”

A pause. “Jeopardy.”

Rey hummed. “Okay, that’ll work.”

Ben grinned, victorious. “Give me a sec.”

Curiously, she watched as he picked up a different remote and pressed a button. The room’s lights immediately dimmed, and with a muttered obscenity, Ben fumbled for a minute before pressing a second button. The lights came back on, but this time they were hued blue. Eyes swinging from the TV to Ben’s living room and back again, she made a small exclamation.

“Wow,” she told him, impressed. “Talk about atmosphere.”

He spread his arms out like, _What can I say_ , and shifted back on the couch. He patted the cushion. “Let’s get comfy, then.”

With a smile, Rey snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. He picked up the TV remote and unmuted the volume. Alex Trebek’s familiar voice filled the townhouse. 

“Julius Caesar summed up his victory in a 47 B.C. campaign with these three Latin words…”

————————————————----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, after a dinner of gourmet mac and cheese, hot dogs, and a fruit salad - Rey _demanded_ diversity in her food selections, quarantine be damned - they both drifted to separate rooms. Ben wanted to take a shower, and although a long day of doing nothing was quite taxing, Rey figured as long as she didn’t obviously smell, she was good.

Instead, she peeked into Ben’s study. Also known as the academic library (not to be confused with the pleasure-reading library on the first floor). Financial books with mysteriously fun names lined the floor-to-ceiling shelves: _A Random Walk Down Wall Street, Manias, Panics, and Crashes, Thinking Fast and Slow,_ and her favorite, _You Are A Badass at Making Money._

This last one put a smile on Rey’s face. As she distractedly flipped through the pages, she tried to reconcile the title of the book to the relatively carefree Ben Solo she knew and teased. 

Honestly, Rey wasn’t completely sure _what_ Ben did. His investment job was an enigma, and no matter how often she asked about the things he did at work - and oh, she asked a _lot_ \- she could never completely understand his answer. 

Humming to herself, Rey reshelved the book and meandered over to his laptop, which was open. The screensaver was the translucent bubble one, and for a moment Rey just stared. 

_Why does he have_ this _as a screensaver?_ she wondered, and then immediately thought, _Oh, but does it_ fit _him_. Even when he wasn’t around, Ben was always making her smile. 

She sat down in his plush desk chair and tapped the keyboard. The screensaver disappeared, and Rey brought up an internet browser. 

She lightly tapped the keys, considering her options. Games? She was _not_ in the mood for solitaire. Online shopping? She didn’t need anything, really. Rey frowned. Maybe a quick email check? She was nonessential, but still…

Suddenly a small icon popped up at the bottom corner of the screen. It pulsed like a silent heartbeat, and when Rey leaned forward, squinting - _why were his icons so damn small?!_ \- she gasped.

She twisted to look at the doorway, but Ben was nowhere in sight. _Probably still shampooing that mane of his_ , she thought with a smirk. Then, without further consideration, she clicked on the icon and a new screen opened up. 

“FINNPOE!” she shrieked, throwing up her hands excitedly. 

On screen, her other best friend Finn and his boyfriend Poe waved and hollered with equal enthusiasm. Then, after a small pause, they both said, “ _What?_ ” 

She’d sent a quick text to Finn yesterday, letting him know where she’d be for the foreseeable future, and he’d told her his plan was the same as usual: to hunker down in Poe’s apartment and alternately play video games and watch Netflix dramas. 

“FinnPoe!” she repeated, this time at a normal volume. “That’s my ship-name for you." She frowned. "Wait, I thought I explained this already...” 

Finn shrugged. “We must not have been paying attention.”

“Shocker,” she muttered as Poe flicked his ear and Finn swatted his hand away.

“I’ve missed you!” Finn said, all pouty mouth and expressive eyes. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie that clung to his finely chiseled arms, and she could tell from Poe’s dreamy expression she wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“I missed you too!” Rey pretended to hug the computer screen and he did the same. 

This was usually how their conversations started off: lots of shrieking and talking loudly at top volume, copious amounts of excited and dramatic hand gestures, and of course way too much hugging. Poe had learned to deal with this greeting ritual, although his expression now was a long-suffering one.

“What’s new _en casa_ Dameron?” 

Finn and Poe alternated filling her in on their daily activities. Well, not _all_ of them, just the SFW ones: hours of Animal Crossing, followed by shower time (Rey did _not_ ask if these showers were taken separately), food break, more Animal Crossing, then Call of Duty and/or Skyrim, followed by _another_ food break, followed by _more_ Animal Crossing -

And so on. Rey got the gist. 

“And what about you?” Poe asked, eyebrows raised. “What’s been going on with you and _Mr. Solo_?” His voice deepened on Ben’s name.

She wasn’t sure precisely when it started, but for as long as Rey could remember, Finn - and now Poe by extension - had referred to her roommate as _Mister_. 

Mr. Solo was most common, but he often switched it up with Mr. Ben and Mr. Investorpants (yeah, real mature). Sometimes he even threw in a Mr. Ren, for reasons unexplainable to her. Maybe it was a video game thing. 

Rey knew that part of the reason for the _Mister_ was the age difference. She’d just entered her twenties while Ben had just left. A decade wasn’t a big deal for her, but sometimes she wondered if, for Finn, it was something to worry about. Seeing his best friend hang around with a much older man. 

Then again, the difference between Finn and his boyfriend was a decade too so. There was that.

Regardless, Rey knew Finn liked Ben, so the name-calling was always lighthearted. At least, she assumed it was _meant_ to be. Still, his current tone made her eyes narrow. 

“We’ve been doing fine so far,” she said warily. “No video games, but we did play MadLibs the other day, and we spent a fair amount of time watching Jeopardy -”

“MADLIBS?” Finn exclaimed, at the same time Poe gasped, “ _Jeopardy?_ What are you guys, _eighty_?!” 

Rey frowned and crossed her arms, offended. “Excuse me. Just because our extracurricular pursuits are far more _mature_ than yours doesn’t mean -”

Finn burst out laughing. “Oh, so you _weren’t_ playing Elder Scrolls for twelve consecutive hours - with _white donut powder_ dumped down the front of your shirt - last weekend, huh? That was some other three-bun girl, I guess.”

Rey pouted. “Fair point.”

Finn scoffed, but Poe was looking at her with a suspicious amount of attention. It made her nervous. She didn’t like the gleam in his eyes; such a look usually meant trouble. 

“Any other _extracurricular activities_ you want to share with the class?” he asked, eyebrows popping up and down suggestively. Finn elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs.

“What does _that_ mean?”

But fortunately for them, Ben chose that moment to enter the study. 

In a towel.

And _nothing else_.

Rey gawked, and on-screen she saw Finn and Poe doing the same. 

Her cheeks immediately heated, and it was all she could do to keep from gasping. As hard as she tried, Rey couldn’t keep her eyes from sliding up and down...down...down that long body. Her stomach flipped. 

Ben’s hair was dripping wet and casually mussed like he’d just run a towel through it. His chest glistened, and the muscles in his arms bunched and tensed as he first held up a reactionary hand, then made a surprised warding-off gesture. The towel hung loosely on his narrow hips, and although it covered all the necessary bits - Rey gulped - she could still see the distinct outline of a certain...phallic part. 

“Uh, WHAT,” Ben exclaimed, clearly dumbfounded. 

Finn and Poe took his shock in stride. 

“What’s up, man!” Poe called, leaning forward so his face nearly took up the whole screen. 

Behind him came Finn’s voice. “Are you _naked_?”

Rey’s mind was still short-circuiting, but she swiveled back to the laptop and managed to say, “So you shower _with_ clothes, Finn?” 

Finn grumbled, Poe squinted between her and Ben, and Rey’s heart fluttered in her chest when she felt a hand grip the back of her chair. _Am I going to pass out?_ she asked herself faintly. _It feels like I might pass out._

“What,” he said, and this time managed to push through his visible confusion, “is going on here.” 

Poe leaned back, exposing Finn, who said, “We’re palavering, obviously.” 

To which Rey said, “Huh?”

To which Poe sighed and said, “Not helpful, bud.” 

To which Ben said, “Rey?”

He was looking for an explanation, and Rey was more than happy to provide one. _Anything_ to distract from his very tall, very _naked_ presence. 

“They Skyped you,” she said haltingly, tracing the image of his abs in her mind. “But I was looking up something and answered. We were catching up.”

Ben harrumphed. “And what was with the screaming?”

In her current state, Rey couldn’t honestly recall any screaming. Her mind was blank. 

The fresh smell of pine filled her nostrils and consumed her thoughts. _Body wash_ , she thought hazily, then remembered there was a conversation going on.

“...apparently her ship name for us,” Finn was saying, looking pleased with himself. 

Poe also had on a smirk. “Hey, Ben, why don’t you join us?”

Ben ignored him and turned the desk chair so Rey was facing him. A small eep slipped past her lips. She was nearly level with his...waist.

Ben braced a hand on the arm of the chair and bent down so their eyes were even. 

“As long as everything’s okay,” he rumbled. “I was worried.”

 _He was - ?_ Then Rey remembered. Screaming. Right. He’d probably thought she was being attacked or something. 

Her heart melted a little, and for a (very brief) moment she could look past his current undressed state. 

“I’m okay, Ben,” she reassured him, smiling weakly. 

He paused for a second more, absorbing her smile, and then - apparently satisfied - stood up straight and left the room without another word. 

Rey’s breath left her in a rush. 

“Well, well, well,” Poe said with a devilish smile when she turned back to the screen. “What do we have _here_.” 

Rey rolled her eyes. “What now?”

Finn elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs once again, but Poe would not be deterred.

“Was that on purpose? Because I feel like that was on purpose.”

“Was he taking a shower... _on purpose_?”

Poe tsked. “It just seems awfully convenient that you’d be making noises of distress at the same time he was naked.”

“ _Noises of distress_?” Rey laughed. “Well, if that’s really what you think, I won’t correct you. Because, between you and me, sometimes it _is_ scary looking at the two of you…”

Finn’s mouth popped open. “Hey!”

“Ben’s obviously the kind of guy to come running when he hears a damsel in distress,” Poe continued, pretending he hadn’t heard her insult. “Did you _really_ have to make all that fuss?” 

“Honestly, Poe, what do you think is going on over here?!” Besides, all three of them knew that Finn had been making just as much of a ruckus. Poe just enjoyed dragging out drama when there wasn’t any. 

Poe’s eyebrows rose. “You really want me to answer that?”

She barely withheld her curse. Yeah, fine, she’d walked right into that one.

“Just...whatever, Poe,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cut it out.”

“Cut _what_ out?”

Oh, so this was the game they were playing today. Rey was caught between amusement and frustration. 

“You know what. The things you’re...insinuating.”

“And what am I-“

“Oh, stop it, Poe,” Finn interrupted, exasperated. “You too, Rey.”

“ _What!_ ” she exclaimed, offended.

“You’re just egging him on.”

She grumbled a little but remained silent. Fair enough.

They chatted for a few more minutes, she and Finn finding endless topics to cover. They were winding down yet another bitchfest about the horrible series finale of a certain epic fantasy TV show when Ben returned.

This time, Rey noted with relief, he was wearing pants. And a shirt, and socks, but most importantly _pants_. 

“Ben has entered the chat!” Finn exclaimed, and so ensued a minute-long bro-fest among the three males. 

Rey sat back in the chair with a small, amused smile. 

“Why don’t you sit?” Finn offered. 

“Yeah, pull up a chair, stay awhile!” Poe added with a wicked smile. Rey had a feeling that was for her benefit. 

“There aren’t any cha-“ 

In one fluid motion, Ben pulled the desk chair out, tugged Rey to her feet, slid into the now-empty seat, and carefully gripped Rey’s hips. In slow motion, Rey watched in her mind’s eye as he pulled her down into his lap. Where she would sit. In his lap. Like it was entirely normal for her to be there. In his lap.

Rey’s hands sprang into action. 

She grabbed Ben’s hands on her hips, squeezed, and leaned forward to regain her balance. Ben immediately ceased the pressure, but it was noted among everyone else that he did not remove his hands from her hips. 

The struggle had lasted no more than a few seconds at most, but to Rey it felt like eons. 

_Why did I let Poe into my head?_ she berated herself. There was nothing wrong with the way she and Ben handled each other. And yet…. Poe, damn him, had got her thinking. 

She shook her head before the memory of Ben’s wet body muddled her thoughts again. What was done was done. There was only forward. 

“I’m gonna get my laptop,” she blurted, making up the excuse as she went. “I need to look up some...stuff.” 

She cringed. _Lame._

Finn and Poe both looked disappointed, though for very different reasons. They chorused their goodbyes as Rey threw air-kisses to the screen, carefully extricating herself from Ben’s grasp.

“Stay safe!” she called, backing out of the room. 

To Ben, she added grimly, “Be careful. They’re wired up.”

He smiled faintly and, with one last considering look, reluctantly turned back to the screen.

Rey fled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Wet....freshly showered....Ben? Mmmmm okay!!**
> 
> **Anyone know the answer to the Jeopardy question? It's _VENI VEDI VICI_.**
> 
> **By the way, I got a lot of my information from[THIS](https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2020/03/how-will-coronavirus-end/608719/) article. It came out in March [posted on former President Barack Obama's Twitter], so it's likely a bit outdated at this point, but it still has a ton of really interesting (and somewhat terrifying) information about COVID-19. Read at your leisure!**
> 
> **also YES I had to include Animal Crossing in here somewhere, don't judge me!! it be addicting!!**
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	4. Into The Garbage Chute, Flyboy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope y'all enjoy this newest installment of Ben & Rey's quarantine journey, which gets a bit steamier than the previous chapters weeeee**
> 
> ****Major TW for PTSD episode + behaviors****

**DAY THREE**

At ten the next morning, Rey was chomping on her towering pile of chocolate chip waffles when a _Smell_ hit her nostrils. Her stomach turned, and she choked on her mouthful of food. 

Appearing instantly at her side, Ben thwacked her on the back - hard. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

 _Thirty years and he still doesn’t know his own strength,_ she thought with a wince. There might be a bruise between her shoulders later. But then all thoughts of bruises and death by waffle suffocation vanished when the _Smell_ wafted by a second time. 

This Smell was nasty. Truly, despicably disgusting. This was a Smell that invaded your senses. This was a Smell that refused to leave. This was a Smell that stayed with you long after it left. This was a Smell that made you want to puke your guts up and then, a few minutes later, puke a second time just from thinking about it. 

This was a Smell she knew well.

“Oh my _God_ ,” she groaned, dropping her fork to the table and slapping her hands over her face. Covering her nose and mouth, Rey staggered from her seat and wobbled to the sliding-glass door. She yanked it open and stepped out, keeping one foot on the kitchen tiles and one on the outside deck. 

“Oh my God,” she said again, and shuddered. 

Ben was standing by this point, with his hands raised, palms out, as if to stop her exclamations. He was visibly - and rightfully - confused.

“ _What_ , Rey?” he asked, and she realized it wasn’t for the first time. “What is it?!”

“You can’t… _smell_ that?” 

Rey knew she was more attuned to this Smell than most people. After all, she’d been surrounded by it for most of her childhood and part of her adolescence. This Smell sank into everything you owned, all your clothes, your hair, your cloth-covered amenities, until you became so familiar with it that it was no longer noticeable. 

But Rey noticed. She always would.

“Ben!” she exclaimed, keeping one hand on her mouth and nose and waving the other at him.

He took a step toward her, obviously concerned. Combined with his confusion, he was the picture of lost - an adorable picture, Rey couldn’t help but note. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong or I _will_ throw something,” he said, and Rey didn’t wait to find out if he was serious. 

“That _Smell_!” Maybe it was just her being paranoid, but when she opened her mouth, she swore the Smell crowded into her mouth and down the back of her throat like it had a mind of its own. She gagged and staggered out onto the deck.

“What sm-”

“I can’t go back in there,” she interrupted him matter-of-factly, planting her hands on her hips. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, she added, “Not until we get whatever that is _out_ of here.”

Ben rubbed his forehead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rey.”

“There must be spoiled or...I don’t know, leftover food somewhere because it smells like a dumpster,” she explained, heart in her throat. 

“I’m sure it’s not so severe as _this_ ,” he said, gesturing to where she stood. (Which was the farthest corner of the deck from the house.) 

“And you’d be _wrong_ ,” she assured him, squinting at the kitchen through the door. She kept her hands on her hips because if she took them off they might shake, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. _Inhale. Exhale. Release._

“Rey, please come back inside,” Ben said from the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest.

She looked over her shoulders at the neighbor’s house, but she didn’t see anyone looking out the windows or doors at them. Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t listening somehow. 

“Don’t you believe me?” she asked, laughing a little. But inside, her emotions were in turmoil. There was absolutely no way she was entering that house again until the Smell was taken care of. The Smell brought back memories, and Rey knew from experience that that was never a good thing. 

“Of course I do,” Ben said, softening. “But standing out here in your pajamas isn’t going to solve anything.” He held out his hand. “Come back inside and we’ll find something to put over your mouth.”

Rey breathed in deeply and stepped towards Ben. She took his outstretched hand tightly in hers, trusting him. Before she reentered the house, she gulped in a huge breath of air.

She followed behind Ben as they shuffled briskly through the kitchen and then upstairs. He led her into his bedroom - which was a cozy dark blue with gray accents - and into his adjoining bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet lid, rubbing her hands together anxiously, as he rummaged through the sink cabinet.

“And here we are,” he announced triumphantly, holding up a white box. 

Rey grabbed it from him and inspected the contents. Disposable face masks.

“Did you just have these….like, in storage?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Someone must’ve given me the box at one point. I don’t remember.”

“Well, it’s good we have these now. And I don’t just mean for _me_ ,” she added hastily, in case he teased her. “But in light of recent events…”

“Yes, in light of recent events,” he repeated solemnly, watching as she plucked out a mask and adjusted it over her face.

Sweet relief. She closed her eyes, shoulders finally slumping, tension leaving her body all at once as if sucked out by a vacuum. She hadn’t realized just how on-edge reminders of her past made her. 

Rey eyed Ben, more than a little embarrassed by the fact that he’d almost witnessed an episode. They were besties, sure, and occasional nap-friends, but the last time she’d shown vulnerability was before the age of ten, and that experience hadn’t exactly recommended itself to her... 

She gave him a double thumbs-up. “Good to go!”

Ben smiled faintly and held out his hand again. Rey took it gladly, secretly pleased that he wasn’t irritated or angry with her. She remembered certain foster homes where one parent or the other - sometimes both - got extremely pissed off with her for having these little freak-outs. 

_It’s not my fault, Ms. Zorii! I didn’t mean to, really!_

A hard slap to her wrist. _Then whose fault is it then, hmm? Stop being dramatic!_

Rey shook her head fiercely to dislodge these thoughts. They weren’t going to do her any good now.

“We must eradicate the Smell!” she proclaimed dramatically. When in doubt, rely on humor.

Ben led the way back to the kitchen. She sniffed carefully but could no longer smell anything through the mask. Her eyes scanned the room, memory working overtime to determine the source. 

“There,” she determined, pointing at the trash-can. 

Ben hummed and flipped up the lid. “Smells like trash. Normal trash,” he amended quickly after catching the look on her face. 

“There’s definitely something rotten or…” Ben carefully slid the can to the side, revealing a plastic bag on the floor. “What’s in there?”

He leaned closer, then immediately backtracked, wrinkling his nose. “Holy shit.” He glanced her way, and she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re allowed to curse in front of me, Ben. I’m not five.”

“I know that,” he muttered, then bravely picked up the bag between two outstretched fingers. 

“Outside!” she directed, watching him through narrowed eyes as he made his way to the back door. 

She followed at a safe distance until they reached the trash bins. Ben lifted the lid of the bigger one, then frowned. 

“Is that...full?” Rey asked, trying to get a good look from a dozen feet away. 

Quickly replacing the lid, he advanced on the second bin.

“Is _that_ one full too?!” Rey gaped as a tightly tied plastic bag fell to the ground from inside the bin. 

Ben turned and looked helplessly at her, clearly at a loss. The bag of rotten...whatever...swayed sadly in his pincer grip. 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “How are your garbage bins already full?” Not just full - _overflowing_. 

Ben shrugged sheepishly. “Ah, well, I might’ve forgotten to bring the trash to the curb…” He coughed. “Once or twice.”

“Ben!” she admonished.

“Maybe three times.”

“This is…” she stammered, trying to come to terms with the whole situation. “Ridiculous! This is… Ben, honestly. And here I was, thinking you had it all together.”

“What do you mean?”

“The perfect adult,” she continued, rubbing her temples. _Deceive me once…_

He snorted. “I’m by no means _the perfect adult_ ,” he mimicked, though he did seem a bit proud of the description. 

“I can see that!” She eyed the bag skeptically. “You should probably put that down somewhere.”

Ben tossed it in the recycling bin. She sighed, making a mental note to retrieve it later. He came towards her, but she held out her hands, palms out. 

“Wash first, touch later.”

Back in the kitchen, Rey hopped up on the counter and tore off her face mask. They’d left the backdoor open to air out the Smell. 

Ben soaped up his hands and washed them vigorously. 

“At least twenty seconds,” she informed him, and he threw a mock-glare over his shoulder. 

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Despite herself, Rey’s eyes roved down his body, scrutinizing him carefully while he was distracted.

He wore form-fitting jeans in a dark blue with a short-sleeved black tee-shirt. It accentuated his muscular arms, thick and large. The jeans were perfect for subtly displaying his narrow hips, and his long, lean legs were extremely pleasing to the eye. Her eyes, anyway. 

Now that she knew what he looked like without any clothes - or near enough - it didn’t take any stretch of the imagination to visualize the body beneath the clothes. And wow, what a body. She shifted on the countertop, legs subtly pressed together. 

Ben finished up in the sink, drying his hands on a sheet of paper towel. “What are we going to do about this?” 

“‘ _This_ ’?” she asked, using air-quotes. 

He moved up next to her, poking her knee. “The trash dilemma.”

“I’m not going anywhere near this so-called Trash Dilemma,” she informed him, raising her eyebrows. “I am not the one who thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to hoard trash for weeks on end.”

“I don’t find it _perfectly acceptable_ ,” he muttered, offended. “And I don't hoard. I’ve been busy.”

“With what? Your video games?” she asked, swinging her legs. Thank goodness, this talk of trash was completely obliterating any lasting traces of arousal. 

“Work,” he answered shortly.

“Oh,” Rey said, reminded once again that she knew next to nothing about his job. 

Ben ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been staying late at the office. Too late, really.”

Rey considered. “How late is too late?”

“I’ll be there until nine. Sometimes ten.”

“Okay, so that’s actually pretty late,” she said with a nervous laugh. Her teasing about the video games now seemed inappropriate in light of his obvious exhaustion. “Is that why you haven’t been around lately?”

Ben stood in front of her, tapping the tops of her knees with his fingers. Rey swatted at him playfully. She was ticklish, and he knew that. “Yeah.”

Rey felt even worse for giving him a hard time. “Oh, well, that’s okay. We have a lot of free time now, right?” 

He traced swirling patterns on her skin, his touch featherlight. She shivered.

“That’s right,” he said finally, his voice strangely low. 

She leaned forward and laid her hands flat on his chest. “We can play all the video games and MadLibs you want now, and I’ll even let you win!”

Ben stared down at her hands. Swallowing, he stepped closer so that her knees pushed into his stomach. “Oh, you will, will you?”

Rey nodded matter-of-factly. “Mmhm. But you should know by now I can only take so much of those battle games. You know, _Call of Duty_ and…” She faltered. “I don’t know, Highrim?”

“ _Skyrim_ ,” he corrected distractedly. With deliberate slowness, he placed his large hands atop her knees. Her body warmed everywhere their skin touched. 

“Oh, right,” she said, frowning. “Well, whatever. All that shooting and picking up random guns seems so…” 

She considered for a moment, and Ben pushed her legs apart. He nestled between them, sliding his hands up to her thighs.

“...repetitive, I guess is the word.”

Ben hummed noncommittally. 

“Hey,” she said suddenly, “what are you doing?”

“Can I carry you?”

“Uh, wh-“

But he didn’t wait, and before she could even finish asking what the heck he was talking about, he pulled her into his arms. With a gasp, she slid into his chest, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. 

She didn’t know what to do with her arms, but Ben murmured, “Around my neck,” and she did it without question. She could feel his hands cupping her bottom, supporting her, and for some reason this made her stomach swoop.

 _When in doubt, rely on humor._

“Oh my, what big arms you have!” she said in a high-pitched voice, fluttering her lashes. Then, at her normal volume, “I bet this works on all the ladies.”

He didn’t respond, but instead turned and headed toward the front door. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, hooking her ankles together behind his back, the better to keep herself from sliding off. She squirmed a little, nervous about falling, and for some reason this made Ben suck in a quick breath. 

“To my truck,” he replied tightly. 

“But what will the _neighbors_ think?” she said in a faux posh accent as he strode out the front door. “My, they’ll be gossiping for _weeks_.” 

“I’m sure they’ll wonder what kind of den of iniquity I’m running over here.”

Rey threw her head back and laughed. “How scandalous!” 

She felt his laughter rumble deep in his chest, and she pulled herself closer to him, nuzzling his neck. 

“You’re like a giant teddy bear,” she told him fondly. “Perfect for cuddling.”

“You know, you’re not the first person to make that comparison.”

“Oh?” A twinge of something bitter and unfamiliar flared in her chest. “Who else has said such a thing?”

“My mother,” he deadpanned, and she instantly warmed. 

“Smart lady.”

“Very,” he murmured. They approached the driver’s-side door, but before he inserted his key, Ben pushed her up against the side, trapping her between the door and his chest.

He clutched her tightly for a long moment, not saying anything. Rey put her chin on his shoulder and allowed herself to revel in his attention. She didn’t really understand what this was, but it seemed to make him happy, and anything that made him happy did the same for her. 

“Ben,” she said, after at least two minutes had passed. She wanted to stay like this for a long while - he was so damn _comfortable_ \- but she didn’t consider that entirely practical. There was a _pandemic_ , after all. 

“Mm,” he grunted, his mouth against her shoulder.

“Is...everything okay?” 

He pulled away reluctantly. “Of course.”

“Oh.” Rey’d expected more of an explanation. “Um, well, what exactly are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’d like to -” He stopped himself, blinked, and gazed at her wordlessly. “Maybe it’s best you don’t know.”

She laughed a little and then, with a spurt of inspiration, pretended to choke him. His neck was so big, or maybe her hands were just that small, that her fingers barely met around his throat. “Stop being so mysterious. You can’t just start to say what you’re thinking and then change your mind!”

“Mm,” he rumbled, and were his eyes just a little darker than before? 

“Commit!” she demanded, thinking how easy it would be for him to snap her neck while she had trouble even getting the right grip on his. 

_Wait, why am I thinking about this?_ she wondered, perturbed. Then- _Oh right, that’s the trauma speaking._

“You trying to kill me?” he asked, glancing down at her hands. He was offensively unconcerned.

She shrugged. “Maybe. Although it might take me a while, and we’re exposed out here. Too many probable witnesses.”

“It seems you’ve spent some time thinking about this.”

“A girl’s gotta have contingency plans.” Especially when she’d been alone most of her life. 

Ben leaned closer to her, and for an insane second Rey thought he was going to kiss her. Not on the cheek or forehead or nose like usual, but on the lips. Even stranger, she found herself wanting him to do it. _Really_ wanting him to do it. 

But instead, Ben shifted his grip on her bottom and inserted the key into his truck. The door popped open, and he gently deposited her on the driver’s seat. She slid her legs from around his waist. 

“Wanna tell me where we’re going?” Even though she _knew_ they had enough food, her mind instantly started running totals. What kind of food they had, how much, whether they needed a more expensive version or if the store brand would do. She had to forcibly restrain herself from tallying up prices.

 _You’re with Ben now,_ she told herself. _Ben has enough food._ You _have enough food. There’s no need to worry._

No need to worry. 

Right.

“To the dump,” he said, and stepped back from the door, yanking a mask out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, you’ve been holding on to that?”

He sniffed. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

“Don’t need to tell me that,” she said, smiling a little. “But seriously, why the dump?”

“I thought you mentioned something about a smell?”

“No, no,” she corrected, waving her hands. “A _Smell_.”

“That’s what I said.”

Rey sighed. “It’s not, but… Anyway.” She cast a glance over her shoulder, examining the interior of his truck. “You’re going to bring all the trash in your yard...to the dump...in this truck?”

“What’s wrong with my truck?” Up until now Ben had seemed a little distracted, adjusting his mask, checking the time, subtly shifting the front of his jeans like they were suddenly too tight, even though he wore them at least twice a week. Not that she noticed or anything.

But at the mention of his precious truck, he stopped moving and refocused on her. She couldn’t see his mouth through the mask, but she just knew he was frowning.

“This is a really expensive truck,” she told him. “Which I’m sure you know. It cost a bajillion dollars, right?”

“Something like that.”

But his evasiveness only spurred her curiosity. “No, really, how much?”

He sighed. “Seventy grand.”

Rey almost choked on her own spit. “Uh-huh, right. So, um, I wouldn’t want to get trash all over the seats or anything, you know? Plus there’s still that new car smell…”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, shrugging and heading toward the backyard. Like they weren’t in the middle of a conversation.

“ _Hey_!” she called, throwing her hands up. “Am I just supposed to sit here or...?”

“ _Yes!_ ” he tossed over his shoulder. 

Rey grumbled and folded her arms across her chest. What a tool. Carrying her around like some sort of caveman, ordering her to stay in place while he did all the work… Then again, “the work” involved picking up trash, and Rey had promised herself to keep that particular activity to a minimum if she could help it. 

So she waited. Her eyes roved over the steering wheel, dashboard, and seats. She had to admit, it really was a nice truck. Spacious with dark brown leather. Controls for the radio, the windows (plus a sunroof), seat warmers, adjustable cup holders, and a hundred other things.

Rey wasn’t usually impressed by material things, but...well...she kind of wanted to live in this truck. Maybe she could convince Ben to have a sleepover in here. It was, improbably, big enough to fit them both with room to spare. Only a little though.

Lost in thoughts of sleeping bag positioning and evasive maneuvering for the sake of the neighbors, Rey jumped when Ben suddenly slung two enormous bags of trash in the open trunk. 

She very deliberately did _not_ look at his exposed arm muscles and the way they flexed as he easily tossed around the trash. She also did not watch as he ran a massive hand through his inky black hair, ruffling his naturally beautiful mane. It was honestly a crime, all the perfect genes he’d inherited.

“Don’t touch your _hair_ after touching the _trash_!” she called, exasperated. Really, this kind of sanitary awareness was elementary.

Ben’s eyebrows popped comically. “You want to handle this?”

She twisted her lips unhappily but kept silent.

“Thought so,” he murmured, flicking her leg as he strode past.

She hissed and drew her legs up, pressing her chin to the tops of her knees. Watching him go back and forth between the backyard and the trunk, Rey tried to sort through her emotions. 

On the one hand, Ben was her very best friend. Was it weird that a thirty-year-old man and a twenty-one-year old young woman considered themselves BFFs? Some might think so. But Rey had always surrounded herself with people older than her: Finn was in his mid-twenties, Poe in his mid-thirties, Rose Tico from the diner three years older, and various other, random coworkers from previous jobs whom she still talked to were closer to thirty and forty than her twenty. It wasn’t like she didn’t get along with kids her own age, it was just…she related more to older generations, for some reason. 

And Ben was special. Sometimes it was almost a little eerie how well he knew her mind. They were always on the same page, rarely argued, and enjoyed spending time together. For some people, two weeks together, with no interaction with the outside world, would be trying. But with Ben, she could spend months, maybe even years, with him without growing tired of his presence. They knew each other inside and out, and ever since she was sixteen she’d known that if she had to pick one person to be stuck with on a deserted island, it would absolutely be Ben Solo. 

Although Tom Hardy was a close second. 

On the other hand....

Ben was extremely good-looking. Like, objectively. Full-stop. With his carefully messy black hair, liquid brown eyes, intimidating height, broad shoulders and lean body, he was truly mouth-watering. Add in his goofy sense of humor, frequent smiles, adventurousness, patience, and all-around kind personality and you literally had a perfect male specimen. 

Rey was well-aware of Ben’s physical and emotional attributes. Although he dated rarely, Ben had still been in several short-term relationships throughout their friendship. She’d always supported him, of course, but some part of her - some small, forcibly unacknowledged part - had balked at the thought of him with another woman. He was hers and she was his and that was that.

But Rey was twenty-one now, and in the five years they’d known each other he had never once indicated he was interested in her sexually. Theirs was a purely platonic relationship, and considering her issues with abandonment and expression of emotions...well, it was probably for the best. 

It took nearly fifteen minutes for Ben to load all the trash bags in the trunk. She peeked through the truck’s back windows, counting and tallying them up in her head. _Twelve!_ Twelve full-sized trash bags! _What the hell has this boy been eating?_ she wondered, flabbergasted. 

She remembered what Rose Tico had told her once after a shift: _Boys are disgusting, no matter their age._ Rey thought she might’ve been specifically referring to her boyfriend, Armie Hux, but still. Considering the evidence before her, maybe there was some truth to that statement.

Ben appeared in the open driver’s-side door, yanking the mask off his mouth. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, climbing over to the passenger seat. As he buckled himself in, the engine roaring like a lion when he started the ignition, Rey sniffed the air. No weird, unwelcome scents. Just pine - Ben’s body wash. She relaxed into her seat.

“Buckled in?” he asked, eyeing her seatbelt like it might suddenly unclick itself.

“Mhmm,” she affirmed, looking out the window as he shifted into reverse.

He must’ve sensed an attitude because he tilted his head and murmured, “Safety first.”

Rey sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know, _Dad_.”

He licked his lips but didn’t say anything. She realized with a shock that he really hadn’t needed to do _any_ of this. The trash had sat there in his yard for weeks, apparently. But because _she_ had commented, because _she_ had freaked out a little, he’d decided to do something about it. And he hadn’t even asked her to help because he knew how she felt about trash.

Guilt slowly flipped her stomach, and she clasped her hands anxiously in her lap. She hoped he wasn’t under the impression that she _expected_ him to do things for her. He was her friend, not a dog or servant. Had she been treating him like one?

Uh-oh.

Despite herself, Rey’s mind fragmented into rapid calculations. Cost and benefit analysis, outcome probability, damage control. Had she thanked him for making breakfast this morning? Were they taking turns doing dishes or should she always do them because he always cooked? Was he keeping a list of all the groceries and other amenities they were running out of or was she supposed to be doing that? Did he even _want_ her sleeping in the guest room? Maybe he preferred her in the other one, but because she hadn’t given him a choice, he figured it was best not to say anything. Should she do her own laundry? Or was he in charge of all the laundry in the house? What if he didn’t want to do her laundry because it was weird for him to touch her panties, but he was too tactful to mention it, so her clothes never got washed and she eventually ran out and -

“Rey.”

She flinched, then casually pressed a button to slide down her window. The warm spring breeze washed across her face, making it a little easier to breathe. 

“I can tell you’re thinking too hard about something.”

“I’m not,” she said mildly, playing with the window controls. “Just...you know...”

_Wondering if I’ve taken advantage of you because I’ve been eating your food and using your dishes and running your water and watching your TV and connecting to your WiFi and sleeping in one of your beds and -_

“Just thinking,” she finished lamely. “Thinking normally.”

She could feel the panic creeping up on her. Panic that she was doing everything _wrong_. Panic that she would mess everything up, break something, mishandle something, and she would get in trouble for it, she’d be punished because _good girls don’t behave like that -_

“Rey.”

 _-good girls do what they’re told without question, good girls never deserve punishment because they know how to listen -_

“Rey, I’m gonna need you to look at me.”

_-but you’re not a good girl, are you, Miss Rey? If you were a good girl you wouldn’t have dropped that glass or ripped that curtain or eaten that cake or spilled that paint all over the new floors, now would you, Miss -_

“Rey, goddamnit, if you don’t look at me I’m going to pull over!”

Ben’s voice filtered through the memories in her head. Abruptly, she resurfaced, blinking rapidly. She looked over at him.

“S-sorry,” she stammered, struggling to pull herself together. Usually it was like that; the memories snuck up on her without warning and suddenly she was back there. “Sorry, I just…”

“Don’t apologize,” he said gruffly, trying to keep one eye on the road and one eye on her. She thought distractedly that he _really_ needed to keep both eyes in front of him. It was far more important that they not die. “It’s not your fault.”

And how many times had she been told that? Countless. Way more than she could ever tally up. How many times had she believed it? That was easier. Not once. 

Ben grasped both of her hands in one of his, making her realize she’d been twisting her fingers to the point of pain.

“We’re going to talk about this.” His gaze was hard, unflinching. There was no negotiating with that look.

She nodded weakly. “Okay, but later. We’re here.”

The dump.

Rey licked her lips and surveyed the enormous, sprawling landscape before her. A massive chain-link fence enclosed mountains and valleys of garbage. She could make out boxes and old furniture and car parts. Candy wrappers and compost and chicken bones. Her stomach clenched.

 _I can do this,_ she told herself shakily, unbuckling her seatbelt. _I can absolutely do this. Don’t be a baby._

She placed her hand on the door handle.

Her whole body broke out in a cold sweat. When she opened the door, the _Smell_ would flood in. It would override everything, every nook and cranny of the truck, and from now on whenever she drove shotgun it would smell like garbage, not new car. The Smell would attach itself to her clothes, infuse her hair, cling to her skin like plastic wrap. There would be no avoiding it, no closing her eyes and making it go away, no holding her breath until she passed out (because that had never worked before, anyway) - 

_I should’ve stayed home,_ she thought numbly. 

Ben’s hand, forgotten until now, gently squeezed her fingers. Slowly, she looked over at him, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this had been a bad decision.

“Let me handle it,” he said softly, his body canted toward her in his seat. “It won’t take me long.”

Rey pried her jaws apart and said, “Are you sure? I know I can do it, just give me -”

“No,” he said, quietly but firmly.

“Ben.” She was going to cry. She didn’t want to, but there was no stopping it. She was going to cry, and she didn’t want him to see it.

“Let me,” he whispered, and she nodded. He was out of the car like a shot, the locks clicking into place behind him. 

_As if anyone would try to break in here,_ she thought hysterically. _With a mess like me -_

By the time Ben jumped back into the driver’s seat some twenty minutes later, trunk now empty, the sobs had abated completely. The only signs of her distress were an occasional subdued sniffle and the red puffiness around her eyes. Ben slid his fingers between hers, binding their hands tightly together. 

The car ride back was silent, but Ben flipped the radio to a soothing classical station, knowing it would keep her calm. Keep her present. 

In his living room, Rey collapsed on the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around them, she narrowed her eyes and stared at a spot on the far wall, concentrating. If she could count to one hundred without blinking, she would be okay. Things could go back to normal. 

She made it to fifty-seven and had to start over.

Ben returned from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. He sat down next to her and held out the glass. She didn’t take her eyes off the wall.

“We need to talk about this now.”

Seventy-four. _Goddamnit._ She used to be good at this. 

Rey shook her head. “Not yet.”

He shifted on the sofa. “When would be a good time for you?”

Eighty-three, eighty-four, eighty-five, eighty-six - 

“Rey, I’d really like to discuss what happened back there.”

Eighty-seven. _Shit. Fuck._ Why couldn’t she just _do_ it? Why did she keep screwing it up?

“Not _yet_ ,” Rey insisted. She hadn’t made it to one-hundred. Things weren’t okay yet. But they would be. She just had to keep trying.

Ben moved in front of her, interrupting her line of sight. She’d only made it to fourteen this time. He kneeled on the floor and stared at her until she focused on him.

“You’re reverting,” he said softly. Not touching her. That was good. If he touched her, she didn’t know _what_ would happen, and that was bad for everyone. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said, grinding her teeth. She still hadn’t counted to one-hundred. Why did he insist on interrupting? If she didn’t do this, bad things would happen. She _knew_ they would. She’d run the calculations before; they never failed her.

“Rey, please,” he said, and something in his voice speared her through the chest. He sounded like a broken toy. Something on the verge of shattering.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered, and only as she said the words did she realize her lips were numb. Why was it so _cold_ in here? Before they’d left for the dump, she’d actually considered changing into something flimsier. But now she wanted to bundle up.

“I need to know you’re okay,” Ben said, and it sounded like something was lodged in his throat. “But I can’t know that unless you talk to me.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she promised, calculating her chances of reaching the desired number. The more they talked the more she knew it would never happen. For some reason she was finding it harder and harder to not-blink. 

“No, you won’t,” he said immediately. “You’ll find some way to avoid the topic, hoping I’ll forget about it.”

Rey was getting impatient. So she didn’t want to talk about it; what was the big fucking deal?

“I’m going to touch you now,” he warned, and Rey allowed it because he’d said so ahead of time. He gently took her wrists in his hands and pulled. With little prompting she released the hold on her legs.

Ben straightened on his knees and held her hands close to his face. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” she mumbled, concentrating hard. Maybe she should count later. _Clearly_ he wasn’t going to leave her alone to do so right now. But once she got started, it was pretty difficult to stop until she reached her goal. Even as they spoke, numbers kept piling up in her head. _Onetwothreefourfivesix._

He lightly kissed the center of her palm. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I know.”

Now the other palm. “You’re safe with me.”

“I _know_.”

“Then why won’t you _talk_ to me?” he rasped, pressing her hands to the sides of his face.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, dizzy. _Seveneightnineteneleventwelve._ “I can’t right now. Just… Can we do it tomorrow?” She paused, her throat tight. “Please?”

Ben was quiet. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Her ears were roaring like she was sitting on the wing of a jet plane. Everything was slightly off-kilter. She hadn’t had an episode this bad in months. Why now?

“Okay,” he said finally, expelling a large breath. “We’ll talk tomorrow. But you have to promise me, Rey.”

Her shoulders sank with relief. He’d agreed.

Ben squeezed her hands, almost painfully. “Promise me.”

She opened her eyes. “I promise, Ben. Tomorrow.”

He nodded slowly, scanning her eyes for signs of a lie. But she wasn’t lying; she really meant it. Right now the situation was precarious. Even in her mentally unbalanced state she could recognize that to bring up more memories would be disastrous. Tomorrow she’d be okay again. There was no guarantee of course, but during past episodes she’d always woken up the next day cured. She doubted today would be any different.

“I’m tired,” she announced, suddenly feeling like her bones were made of sludge. 

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Ben released her hands and gathered up the dark blue throw on the armchair. He shook it out and let it drift over Rey, who was slumped on her side somehow. Bizarre how that happened. Sometimes she moved without even knowing about it.

Rey pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. Everything was soft now, and as soon as he left she would stare at the wall and count to one-hundred on the first try. She knew she could do it once she was alone again.

“I might sleep for a while,” she murmured, her mind going _onetwothreefourfivesix_ as she snuggled into the sofa.

“That’s okay,” he said softly, and she felt his hand on her head, brushing back a wayward strand of hair. “Sleep as long as you’d like. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And before she could tell him to stay, Rey was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **we stan an oblivious queennnnnn**
> 
> **shoutout to all my fellow mentally ill readers! it be difficult this year but we be trying <3 **
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	5. Across The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope everyone's in the mood for some Inner Turmoil a la Rey's frantically overworked mind heheh**
> 
> **this fic has honestly gotten a little bit deeper than I expected?? but I'm still striving for that light-and-easy vibe too for the most part**

** DAY FOUR **

The bird would never get away.

Rey watched as the cardinal swooped and spun, performing truly gorgeous feats of acrobatics as it tried its very best to avoid the predator on its tail. The way its wings flared to their full-length, red feathers gleaming in the early morning sunlight, beak pointed and direct, like it was determined to evade capture no matter what - all of it, beautiful. The bird rocketed through trees and across power lines, swerving and wheeling and backpedaling like crazy.

All in vain.

The hawk circled high above the earth, eyes no doubt watchful and penetrating. There was no escaping that gaze. It was everywhere, all-seeing. Every time the cardinal retreated, reevaluated, revamped its speed, the hawk would drift lazily away, riding the air currents like it had all the time in the world. Just when the bird began to relax, its motions becoming less frantic, the hawk would dive.

It was only a matter of time until the hawk won this battle.

Rey felt her heart break for the bird. Because despite its efforts, despite all it did to escape, to protect itself and prolong its life, to ward off danger, to fly free, the hawk was always just a wing-tip away. One wrong spin, one wrong turn, and the cardinal would have its neck broken. It tried so hard, and yet the end result had been determined the instant the hawk decided to pursue. 

The cardinal was just too stupid to realize it.

Sitting cross-legged on the window-seat, Rey turned her attention from the chase. 

The neighborhood street was empty. No one was going to work anymore; rather, they were working, but from the comfort of their own homes now. The only time somebody left the house was to fetch the mail or take a trip to the grocery store. People were indistinguishable; with the lower half of their faces covered, everyone looked the same. Unsmiling. Unhappy. Afraid.

Rey shrank deeper into her sweater. She’d found it in the otherwise empty wardrobe after waking. She suspected Ben had put it in there sometime last night, but she couldn’t be sure unless she asked him directly, and she wouldn’t do that. He didn’t like his kindnesses to be addressed.

The sweater was enormous on her; the hem fell mid-thigh, covering her shorts. It was dark brown in color and reminded her of Ben’s leather seats. Wearing it felt like being wrapped in a pair of strong arms. Warm, safe, familiar arms. She quickly banished the thought and instead studied the street.

A few minutes later there was a light knock on the door.

She turned her head to see Ben enter the bedroom, mug of tea in hand. His eyes went first to the bed, then over to the window seat. His stance softened a little when he caught sight of her, and he pushed the door open wider. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

“You can come in,” Rey said, feeling ridiculous. This was _his_ house; why was she inviting him in? Her cheeks warmed.

“Feeling okay?” Ben sat carefully on the opposite side of the window-seat, which wasn’t saying much. It was a tight fit, but she was small. Drawing even further into herself, she made more space for him. 

“Better,” she told him, accepting the offered mug. Chamomile. Her favorite. A single sip cleared her head, banishing images of the hawk and cardinal.

His eyes were watchful. Like the hawk, except less...well...predatory.

“Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, looking down into the mug. Her reflection gazed blurrily back. “How did I get upstairs?” The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch, yet when she woke eighteen hours later, she was in the guest room, surrounded by her things. 

Ben shifted and cleared his throat, eyes seeking outside the window. “I carried you.”

A pause as Rey considered the implications.

“Was that okay?”

Surprised, she met his gaze. A wave of heat swept through her, and she nearly swayed toward him. _What’s_ that _about?_ she wondered, mentally shaking it off.

“Yes,” she said, then, ”Thank you.” 

He leaned forward as if drawn by an invisible force. His hand came up to touch her cheek. “Anything for you.”

Her heart pulsed madly in her chest. _What are you even_ thinking? she berated herself. _He’s just being kind. You need to relax._

Before she could speak, Ben’s hand dropped from her face. “We need to talk now.”

She nodded, fear coating her skin like another layer. Choked by it, already suffocating, she took a sip of her tea. More relief.

“I just,” she started, keeping her eyes on the tea, “got to thinking about stuff. Like…” She floundered for a second, unable to put it in a way that would make sense. 

“Take your time,” Ben said, and when he tentatively offered his hand, she clasped it gratefully. “It’s just me.”

“Right.” She swallowed. “Um, I was thinking about the laundry. And the dishes. And, um, the groceries and stuff. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be doing more, you know? I always clean up, but since I’m the guest, shouldn’t I do -“

“Rey,” he interrupted gently. “Breathe.”

As she concentrated on sucking the appropriate amount of oxygen into her lungs, Ben said, “You’re not a guest, Rey. You’re family. While you’re here, this house and everything in it is yours.” 

_While you’re here._ How many times had she heard that phrase? _While you’re here._ Because her arrangements were always temporary. 

_Stop it_ , she chided herself. _He doesn’t mean it like that._

“I’m not a guest,” she said slowly, feeling it out - more for his sake than hers. 

“No,” Ben agreed, “you’re not. And if it’ll make you feel better, we can divy up tasks and chores so it’s clear who's doing what that day. Establish a routine.”

She nodded. A routine. Yes, routines always calmed her down. “Okay.” 

“You like that idea?”

“I do.”

Ben swallowed, eyes catching on her every movement. She sipped her tea again.

“What else?” He obviously knew there was more she wasn’t telling him.

“Um,” she cringed, “well, I started thinking about how…” This was the hard part. The part that only made sense in her mind. Out of context, it sounded crazy. “...how I’m messing things up. I keep doing the wrong thing. Or _almost_ doing the wrong thing.”

 _I’m afraid of taking up space,_ she wanted but dared not say. _I’m afraid of being seen, because if I’m seen, everyone will know how bad I am. How undeserving. How useless. If I take up space, that means I exist, and I’ve spent most of my life thinking I shouldn’t._

“I don’t want to be in the way,” she said finally. Even that was almost too much.

“Have I given that impression?” Ben’s voice was gentle, but...hurt, too. 

“ _No_ ,” she said vehemently, “no, absolutely not. That’s just how I think. I can’t help myself.” 

Rey set her mug down on the floor and leaned forward. Ben’s free hand skimmed up her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake despite the barrier of his sweater.

“I never want you to think that,” he murmured. “Especially not with me.”

“I know,” she said meekly. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said, lips tightening. “No apologizing, remember?”

“Right.”

“How about this?” Ben scooted forward, closing the gap between them. His bent leg pressed into her crossed ones. He was so warm she wanted to wrap herself around that leg and hold on until someone dragged her off.

“Whenever I’m feeling irritated or upset or angry,” he continued, “I’ll tell you. Whether I’m upset with you or something else, I don’t want to hide that, and I don’t want you to misunderstand. And you’ll do the same. Anger, fear, panic, sadness, anything. I want you to come see me right away so we can figure it out together. Okay?”

His eyes were so eager, so open and receptive, she nearly burst into tears on the spot. But no, they were being productive now. Which meant no crying.

“Okay,” she agreed. 

“We have to be honest with each other.” 

_Honesty_. What an idea. Rey almost laughed but caught herself. Imagine, someone _wanting_ to know what she was thinking. 

“Okay,” she said again. But then, inevitably, her mind started churning. “But what if...I have a hard time talking about it?” God knew expressing her emotions was an extreme sport she might never get the hang of. 

Ben smiled a little. “That’s okay. You come to me anyway. You don’t have to say a word.”

She frowned and glanced down at their clasped hands. Unconsciously, she started playing with his fingers, pressing on them, bending them, twisting a little this way and that. 

“But how will you _know_?” she asked finally, putting pressure on his ring finger. Christ, his fingers were so _thick_ , it was a wonder he managed to use the tiny little buttons on his phone at all.

“I’ll know.” 

Rey wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze regardless. She nodded.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Rey concentrated on Ben’s fingers, relieved she had something to distract her. She considered, briefly and bizarrely, putting his index finger in her mouth and sucking on it, but the urge quickly went away. That was too weird, even for her.

“Rey,” he said, and she could tell instantly by his tone that he was about to say something serious.

His wristwatch ticked loudly in the silence. 

“Yesterday, I...lost you for a few minutes,” he said in a low, cautious voice. “It scared me.”

Her heart jumped in her chest like a bucking horse. That was impossible. Ben didn’t get scared. 

Right?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, horrorstruck, and this time he didn’t tell her it was unnecessary. He didn’t remind her not to apologize.

Instead he nodded and pulled her into his embrace. 

Rey went willingly, her body unfolding to allow him in. She sat in his lap, legs to one side, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed herself to him, wanting to feel the beat of his heart against her own. Like yesterday. If they melded together, things would no longer be unbearable. She could be with him always. 

Ben buried his face in her hair. His voice was quiet when he said, “I never see your hair down like this.” 

“I prefer it up,” she mumbled, nose pressed to the skin of his neck. Damn, he smelled so good. She could almost lick him.

“So pretty,” he murmured, running his fingers through her unbound strands. It was true she usually wore her hair in a three-bun style. It had grown quite a bit and now fell well past her shoulders, nearly to the tops of her breasts. It was wavy and thick, which is why she typically kept it up during the summer months.

She didn’t know how to address his compliment, so she simply clung tighter to his chest. His broad, muscular chest. The very thought of it made her mouth water. A vivid image from yesterday of his bare chest flickered into view: wet and gleaming and freshly showered. 

What was _happening_ to her? 

He was her best friend! She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about him. It must be all the time they were spending together. That had to be it; in such close quarters, it’d be unreasonable to expect them to keep their distance. 

“ _Rey_ ,” Ben sighed, and when he shifted something hot and hard and heavy prodded her inner thigh. 

Her mind completely froze as she realized _something_ was going on. A different something, of course, than the one between her legs. Her pulse sped up, and it was all she could do not to bolt.

Confusion. Uncertainty. Bewilderment. Frustration. Impatience. All of these emotions battled for dominance. Finally, the inevitable one forced itself past all the rest: fear.

Swallowing, Rey leaned back and tried to extricate herself from Ben’s embrace.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, concerned. His arms loosened, but they didn’t break his hold.

She shook her head and pulled his hands off her waist. “Um, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Talk about the flimsiest excuse in the universe! _Good going, Rey,_ she admonished herself. 

“Okay,” he murmured reluctantly. “But I’m going to be right here when you get back.”

Of course. Rey should’ve known he’d read her emotions better than she could. Maybe not the conflicted ones about him specifically, but the fear and confusion, certainly. 

In the bathroom across the hall, Rey stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were darker than normal, not so much emerald green as a dark forest green now. Her hair was mussed from Ben’s hands, and even now her chest was heaving. She kept replaying the feel of his erection against her thighs. She was surprised by how _good_ it felt. Not only that, she was surprised by her reaction.

Rey wanted to touch him there.

 _Stop it,_ she told herself, and shook her head viciously. _You’re not five! You can say penis. You can say dick. You want to touch Ben’s dick._

Her stomach swooped, and she had to concentrate on breathing slowly. For the first time, she considered that this whole arrangement with Ben might not have been the smartest idea. They were only a few days in, and already she was starting to lose it. 

Rey gritted her teeth. Ben didn’t feel that way about her; seriously, how many times would she have to remind herself? 

_As many times as it takes,_ she thought grimly, gripping the countertop. 

No way would she ruin this friendship. Her one good, positive relationship in life. Ben meant too much to her; she would shove aside this random, probably fleeting desire and focus on the way he made her laugh and all the many times he’d effortlessly brought her out of her own head. 

Licking her lips, Rey straightened her shoulders and left the bathroom. Ben was leaning against the wall near the windows, watching the street below. His body was silhouetted with early morning light, and his arms were crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the truly astonishing size of his biceps. For a moment, Rey’s breath stopped in her throat. 

_Just look at him._

“What’s the plan for today?” Her voice was steady, at least. A good sign.

Ben stepped away from the wall, an easy smile on his face. “The day’s pretty much open.”

“Maybe we can…” Rey bit her lip thoughtfully. What was there to do, really? They couldn’t go anywhere. “Um, I don’t know…”

“I have an idea.” He walked toward her, arms unfolding, and with a flare of panic she nimbly slid to the side of her bed, pretending to shuffle the sheets and covers around so it looked semi-decent. If she was going to live here for two weeks, the least she could do was make the bed. 

“Are you gonna make me guess?” Rey sat on the edge of the mattress, then immediately stood again. 

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her secret stash. _Damnit._ She thought she’d hidden it better than that. 

The stash was under the bedside table, behind a meticulously assembled pile of clothes. There were aluminum cans and plastic bags and styrofoam containers stacked according to size and expiration date. She didn’t want Ben to know she was still hoarding food, so she stepped in front of him and took him by the hand.

“Let’s go downstairs.”

Ben let her lead him out of the bedroom and down into the living room. Her eyes flicked from the armchair to the sofa, and she rapidly calculated the consequences of choosing one over the other. 

It was important for her to always make the right choice, so after a slight pause in which she decided the sofa was the best bet, Rey released Ben’s hand and plopped down on a cushion, studiously avoiding the far wall. She vaguely recalled obsessively counting and struggling with intrusive thoughts - the perks of being supremely messed up. 

“So what’s your idea? No, wait. How many guesses do I get?” Rey asked, smiling for his sake. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck as she wondered what he’d say next. Would he bring up her episode again?

Ben studied her quietly, obviously indecisive. “Rey…”

She clenched her teeth tightly together and gestured at the room. “Now, I’m not saying your house isn’t fun, exactly, but there aren’t _too_ many options available to us, are there?”

“Fine,” he said, laughing resignedly. “Before you insult the rest of my house. Three guesses.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. He was going to let it go. Things could go back to normal now.

“Um, okay.” Instantly going into Competitive Game Mode, she furrowed her brows and thought hard. “More MadLibs?”

Ben sighed and sat next to her on the couch. Not close enough to touch, but within hand-holding distance. On a related note, Rey had no idea why she was measuring distance like that. 

“Unfortunately, I am no longer in the mood for MadLibs,” he announced dramatically. 

She frowned, pulling at a loose thread on her sweater. Well, _Ben’s_ sweater, technically. “Why not?”

“You were too good at them.” He shrugged, mock-exasperated. “Frankly, it wasn’t fair for me. Besides, I didn’t understand half the sheets.”

Rey pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Says you.” His teasing tone set off a wave of warmth that consumed her whole body. When they were like this - when things were easy and light and silly - Rey figured she could stay with him forever, in this bubble that was just the two of them. He made her feel weightless.

“You’re damn right, says me,” she said fiercely, and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Such a dirty mouth,” he murmured, leaning against the back of the sofa, and Rey jerked but immediately laughed it off. She was being ridiculous; he was just joking around.

“So if it’s not MadLibs, then…” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to, I don’t know, sing me a song?”

Ben suddenly sat forward, eyes bright. “How’d you know?”

She gaped, stunned by this reaction, and he let out a loud laugh. “I’m kidding, Reybear. No singing from me. Not today, anyway.”

Her breath stuttered in her chest. “What the _hell_ , Ben! Don’t tease me like that. Weirdo.”

With narrowed eyes, Ben reached over and mussed up her hair. “Who’s calling who weird?”

“Whom,” she corrected, frantically pawing at her hair. She’d _just_ managed to separate all the pieces and now he’d gone and mucked it up again.

“Whom what?”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Who’s calling _whom_.”

“Pretty sure it’s just _who_ , Rey.”

“Pretty sure it’s _not_ ,” she insisted, unsure if he was being serious or just messing with her again. She glanced over in time to see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

“Not funny!” she called over her shoulder, heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“What’s your third guess?” he called back, ignoring this remark.

“Can you really sing?” 

A pause. “ _What’s your third guess?_ ”

Rey rolled her eyes again and grabbed the Brita filter from the fridge. “I’m not gonna answer unless you tell me!”

He groaned, and the sound did something to her lower stomach. “ _Fine_ , I give up. I can sing, minimally, and _no_ , I will not sing for you.”

She reentered the living room, pouting. “Why not?”

Ben scoffed. “You just want another opportunity to make fun of me.”

“Oh, Ben,” she said kindly, placing a hand on his knee. “There are already so _many_ opportunities. What’s one more?”

He made a noise of surprise and grabbed her hand. “What’s gotten into you? To say such a thing to your very best friend in all the world…” He tsked. “Frankly, I’m speechless.”

“Ha!” Rey carefully set her glass of water down on the coffee table. “For someone who’s apparently speechless, you’re sure talking -”

Ben suddenly yanked her across the sofa. She gasped, locking her elbow in place, and fought against him. His fingers pressed lightly against her sides, tickling her, and she immediately shrieked with laughter, body convulsing against the sofa. 

“No, no, no!” she shouted, trying to keep his hands away. “That’s not fair! You _know_ how ticklish I am!”

“ _Life’s_ not fair,” he reminded her, a little breathlessly, and continued to torture her. She giggled hysterically and then kicked out, hitting his thigh with her foot. A gasp hitched in her chest.

“ _Oh!_ ” she exclaimed, concerned. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, Rey,” he said, smiling to let her know this wasn’t a lie. “You’d have to hit me a lot harder than that for it to hurt.”

She let out a relieved breath. “Well, that’s good news. What are you, made of steel?”

“Listen,” he said, pulling her against his side, “there’s a reason they call me the man of steel.”

Rey snorted, secretly grateful she hadn’t caused him any pain. “Please, don’t make me laugh.”

“You doubt me?” As if to prove his point, he flexed his bicep, and Rey quickly realized she’d miscalculated. He was being silly, but there was nothing amusing about the heat pooling between her legs. 

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head, “no doubting here.”

Satisfied, Ben stopped flexing and grabbed the remote. “Your three guesses are spent.”

“Wrong! I didn’t guess a third time.”

“Yes, well, I’m impatient.” Putting the remote close to his mouth, he said clearly, “Netflix,” and on the TV the home screen for the streaming service began to load. 

“Netflix?” she asked excitedly, clapping her hands. This was the obvious choice, but she hadn’t forgotten Ben’s restlessness while watching the first two episodes of The Office three months ago. She, on the other hand, had been practically raised on the stuff.

“Netflix,” he confirmed, clicking to the movie selection. 

“Good choice,” she told him approvingly. “Actually, no, _best_ choice.” Then, thoughtfully, “Since nobody’s allowed to go out anyway, I bet the Netflix-and-chill meme is going through a _huge_ resurgence -”

Rey paused mid-sentence, realizing too late that she’d actually said the phrase _Netflix-and-chill_ out loud...to Ben...while watching Netflix. 

_Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._ She didn’t dare look at Ben. Even so, she could feel her cheeks warming with a massive blush. She was thankful the lights were dimmed, at least.

“Maybe another time,” he said smoothly, before the silence could stretch too long. He shifted next to her - not away, but closer, as if to reassure her she hadn’t said anything wrong.

Rey could feel herself swaying on the edge of a very dangerous precipice.

 _Is he angry with me? Is he only pretending to be okay with what I said? What if -_

But then Ben was hovering over her, and she was forced to crane her neck against the back of the sofa to see his face. She hadn’t even noticed the arm around her shoulders.

“Why don’t you pick the movie, Rey?” he said calmly, and just like that, the panic and racing thoughts vanished from her mind with an inaudible _snap_.

“Okay,” she agreed, delicately taking control of the remote. With a deep breath, she asked, “What are you in the mood for?”

“Definitely nothing apocalypse related.”

She shuddered. “Oh, good call.”

Ben hummed consideringly. “What about that new space opera film?”

She gasped. “Ooooh, yes! The one with the, uh, space wizards, right? And the -”

“Glowing swords and snazzy robed outfits,” he finished for her, grinning. “That’s the one.”

“Yes, absolutely, let’s watch that!” Rey had truly enjoyed the previews for the movie - which she was currently forgetting the name of - but part of her was relieved he hadn’t suggested a romantic comedy or drama. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to watch something like that, not with Ben sitting pressed against her side.

Ben altered the dimmed lights to set the mood - a very thematically-pleasing dark blue - and slipped his feet out of his sneakers. Adjusting his position on the couch, he asked, “Popcorn? Theater candy? What are you in the mood for?”

Not _are you hungry_ or _would you like anything to eat_. No, Ben knew her better than that. He always knew to ask _what kind_ rather than _do you want_. Because she always wanted. 

Then again… 

“Isn’t it only, like, eight in the morning?”

“Ah.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. That is very much true.”

A pause. The opening credits scrolled across the screen.

“So…”

Rey smiled. “Popcorn, definitely. With butter.”

“As the lady wishes.”

Ben surged off the couch and made it into the kitchen in only a few quick strides, and Rey couldn’t help herself - she had to laugh, especially as she listened to him fumble around in the cabinets, searching for the box of kernels.

“You _do_ know I can pause the movie, right?” Rey called. “That’s a function on Netflix since, I don’t know, forever?” She pressed a hand to her forehead when a bowl clattered to the kitchen floor. “There’s literally no need to rush. At all.”

“Hold on,” he called back, “I’m almost -” More bowls fell to the floor, followed by a round of very creative cursing. 

“Ben,” she sighed, and pressed PAUSE on the remote.

They danced around each other in the kitchen, Rey handling the popcorn bowl, Ben poking at the microwave. He gestured grandly at the available beverages in the fridge and pulled out the container of iced tea. Water for him.

“Boring,” she muttered, and bit her lip when she heard him sigh behind her.

“Will there ever come a day when my thirst preferences aren’t called into question?” 

Rey burst into laughter, nearly dropping the poor popcorn bowl again. “ _Thirst preferences!_ ” 

“That’s what I said,” he sniffed, peeking at her over the open fridge door. 

She bent at the waist, nearly screaming with laughter. “ _THIRST PREFERENCES_.”

“What?” he said, laughing too. “What’s wrong with that?”

Rey sucked in a great gulp of air and wiped genuine tears from her eyes, all thoughts of trash and unbelonging and nightmares forgotten.

“Okay, grandpa, maybe it’s time for you to take a nap.” She grinned at him. “Sometimes I have to remind myself you weren’t born in the nineteenth century.”

Ben pouted, which was both ridiculous and endearing on his large frame. “First it was _dad_ , now _grandpa_ ,” he muttered indignantly. “What’s next? Uncle?”

The microwave beeped. She shrugged, grabbing the steaming bag of popcorn. “Brother?”

Ben’s face went white. “Don’t you _ever_ -“

“ _Kidding_ ,” she stressed, tugging at his shirt-sleeve. “That’d be super weird.”

“Good,” he said, eyeing her pensively. 

“Good that it’s _weird_?”

He flushed. “Of course not!” 

She laughed, ducking back into the living room. Ben was rarely flustered, and never easily, so she counted this a major win. 

“Unless that’s how you really see me,” he called from the kitchen. 

Rey rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t!”

“Oh?” His voice grew louder as he rounded the corner. “And how do you think of me?”

She pretended to seriously consider.

“I can’t tell if that’s a good silence or…”

Oh, now he was being intentionally obtuse. “You know you’re my teddy bear, Ben.” 

“I know, Reybear,” he said gruffly, kissing her forehead. His lips were so soft. 

As they adjusted themselves on the couch, getting comfortable for a three-hour-long movie, thunder rumbled distantly outside. It was several long seconds before lightning flashed.

Ben threw his arm over the back of the sofa. “Perfect movie day.”

She hummed her agreement, wrapping herself, cocoon-like, in the blue throw blanket. “Maybe we can watch more than one? Aren’t there sequels?”

“At least two,” he confirmed, clicking PLAY on the remote.

Crescendoing music blared from the surround-sound speakers as the opening credits faded and the first scene began. 

Rey settled back on the couch, eyes glued to the screen from the first minute. The film was beautiful; sunset shades of red, orange, and pink dominated the desert scenes while more menacing tones of red, gray, and black pulsed from the enemy’s headquarters in deep space.

Planetwide explosions. Unexpected friendships. The bloom of first love. Loneliness. Hope. Drama. Death. Revolution. Belonging.

Captivated, Rey hardly moved an inch through the entire movie. At one point she became aware of a hand on her shoulder, fingers caressing, and the motion was so soothing, if she hadn’t been so engaged, she absolutely would’ve fallen asleep again.

As the end credits scrolled on the TV, Ben wordlessly clicked over to the sequel. Once again, it was like they shared an understanding. Their thoughts aligned, minds arriving at the same conclusion. The popcorn bowl sat forgotten on the coffee table, still half-full. 

The sequel was just as wonderful, if not better in some regards, but Rey quickly realized she’d actually seen some of these scenes before. She’d always been into sci-fi/fantasy content, and on the popular blogs she followed, the creators had shared their favorite scenes from _this_ movie. 

Understanding only the very basics of the storyline, Rey had watched and rewatched certain scenes over and over again, astonished by all the symbolism and subtle little clues that hinted at the characters’ complex relationships and inner struggles. 

Now, watching the film in its entirety on-screen, Rey appreciated all the nuances of this world. And because she knew what happened, because she’d seen the drama and misunderstandings and depravity before, she found her attention wandering to Ben.

They were side-by-side, both of their bodies hidden under the blanket. Ben’s long legs were stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed on the coffee table. His arm was thrown over the back of the sofa, behind her head, and she periodically felt his fingers on her shoulder and then in her hair. The longer she watched, the more certain she was that he didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

Her legs were curled under her, knees pressing into his side. She hoped it wasn’t uncomfortable for him, but then she realized he’d either move away or tell her to readjust. Ben was always truthful with her; that was something she knew with her whole heart. Something she counted on to make it through the day. 

Rey tilted her head back surreptitiously, the better to observe Ben. These were some of her favorite moments, when she could look at him freely. It was so rare she could do so; when they were together, it often felt like his eyes were always on her when she turned around. 

Looking at him now, gazing at his stern profile, the way his body stretched across the sofa so casually, like he knew he belonged here and would act like it, stirred something in her. If there was a phrase she could attribute to him, it would be _home_. 

Ben was warm and welcoming, soft and hard when he needed to be, kind and caring and patient. He was silly and focused, funny and serious, and so passionate it took Rey’s breath away. He was larger than life. 

For a scary second, Rey thought she might kiss him.

The urge surged in her chest without warning. It took control of her limbs. In her lap, hidden by the blanket, her hands jerked. Her heart thundered in time with the soaring musical score. She breathed deep and realized her mistake when her senses were flooded with pine. Ben’s smell. 

_Why is this happening now?_ she wondered, shaken. _I know we’ve been trapped in the house for four days, but we’ve spent almost as much time together before, and I’ve_ never _wanted to kiss him. Not like this!_

A few times in the past she’d given in to the urge to kiss his cheek or temple or upper arm, but that was always done in jest or with the understanding that it was only platonic. Rey was well-aware of their age gap and how it could be perceived by others unfamiliar with their intimacy. She didn’t want to _ever_ put him in a compromising position.

In public, they managed to reduce their affections to hand-holding and maybe a forehead kiss here and there, but alone, they’d always been a lot more free: tickle battles, wrist and palm kisses, hugging, naptime cuddling in his bed or on the couch, cheek and nose kisses, neck and shoulder massages. Ben often slung his arm across her shoulders or around her waist. Rey had honestly lost count of the number of times she’d sat in his lap. 

Since their very first meeting, when Ben had poked her cheek with a teasing finger, they’d always interacted with the mutual understanding that everything they did, they did non-sexually. That was just how it went. That was just how it had always been. And, in Rey’s eyes, likely always would be.

And she was fine with that. Really.

Her eyes traced the defined curve of his jaw, the roundness of his mouth, the messy tangle of his hair, the slope of his nose. She inhaled his clean, pine-scented musk and examined the breadth of his chest and shoulders. She allowed herself to think about how every part of him dwarfed her, from his hands and biceps and legs to his fingers and even ears. She liked being so small beside him; his size had always made her feel safe.

Not that it mattered. He wasn’t _for_ her. He was meant for better things. A woman with experience. A woman who made him laugh and gave him her whole, unfractured heart. Someone who knew how to live life, who was successful and confident and beautiful. 

Someone with a family of their own to share with him.

Her chest tightened so painfully she nearly choked. _Don’t think about that,_ she scolded herself. _Don’t go there. You don’t want a repeat of yesterday, do you?_

No, she didn’t. 

And yet -

 _You have nothing to offer him._ It was a whisper. Little more than a gasp of air. But it was there in the back of her mind, lurking and always, always waiting to remind her that she was made of missing pieces.

Rey drew in a breath. 

“Round three?”

Startled, Rey’s gaze swung from the blanket in her lap up to his face. He was looking at her, a small, questioning smile on his face, completely unaware of her spiraling thoughts. 

“W-what?” she stammered, eyes flicking to the TV where the main menu was pulled up. On it was the intro screen for the third and last installment of the trilogy. 

“We don’t have to,” Ben said quickly, obviously sensing her offness. “Another day.”

But she was already shaking her head. “No, no, I want to.” She swallowed down everything she was feeling and thinking. Her eyes met his, and she smiled. “Let’s watch.”

Excitement lit up his face, a soft warmth melting his chocolate eyes. “Round three it is.” 

And with his hand tucked neatly in her own, Rey faced forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **poor baby always beats herself up wahhh**
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	6. Big Walking Carpet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SURPRISE CHARACTER CAMEO INCOMING**

** DAY FIVE **

Rey squealed and pumped her fist. “ _Yes_ , finally!” 

On the tiny console screen, the mini version of herself proudly displayed a giant fish. It was black and bulbous and just all-around ugly, but apparently she could sell it for fifteen grand. That was a not-insignificant amount for a single fish. 

Rey stored the fish in her pocket inventory, then sighed heavily as her flimsy fishing pole broke. It got annoying, having to repeatedly craft the tools that broke maybe ten times or more a day. That was an improvement the game creators might want to take into consideration.

Grumbling, but secretly pleased with herself, Rey set about collecting the required ingredients to build a new rod. She ignored the time - eleven in the morning - and continued to ravage her island. 

“Two hours isn’t _that_ long,” she mumbled to herself consolingly. 

From upstairs, she could hear the sound of the desk chair rolling across the hardwood floor. Ben was apparently doing the whole “work-from-home” thing, which, up until this morning, had been very minimal. At least, that was what she’d _thought_.

Much to her chagrin, Rey hadn’t noticed or even asked Ben about his work arrangements. She’d just figured that, like herself, he was out of work for the foreseeable future. After all, they’d been cooped up for five whole days now, and not once had she caught sight of him working.

It wasn’t like he’d even _mentioned_ working from home...

Then again, she’d been asleep for a whole day. Eighteen hours was plenty of time to accomplish some work-related tasks. And there’d also been all the free time yesterday after their movie marathon. Oh, and they’d separated for a few hours on day two after watching Jeopardy. Not to mention he was usually awake by six, and she was rarely even out of bed before nine. 

Okay, so maybe this was on her. 

Regardless whose fault it was for mentioning or not mentioning certain things, Rey had wisely decided to give him space when, after slamming something quite heavy against the wall, Ben had cracked open the study door to ask if she minded amusing herself for a little while. Wide-eyed, surprised by his outburst, she’d managed to nod. 

That was two hours ago now. Two hours of building and rebuilding the same half a dozen tools. Two hours of decorating the new room in her virtual house. Two hours of fishing, shopping, and pestering her villagers for unique DIY recipe cards. _Animal Crossing_ was not a game you could win, at least not in the traditional sense, but damn if Rey wasn’t going to at least try.

Rapidly clicking buttons on her handheld console, Rey was so focused on the game that when someone knocked once on the front door, she almost threw the device across the room. 

“Shit!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her racing heart.

With cautious steps, pausing every few feet to make sure whoever was on the other side couldn’t hear her, Rey sidled up to the front door. Which was locked _and_ bolted, she noted with satisfaction. Ben was learning. 

She squinted through the door hole. _Nobody’s there_ , she thought with a frown. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Would Ben be mad if she opened the door? What if someone important was on the other side? Besides, he was busy working. The least she could do was answer the door. 

So she twisted the handle and swung the door wide open.

On the doorstep were two small packages in cardboard boxes. In the mailbox next to the door was a pile of envelopes and one magazine. Something to do with investments. 

_It’s that time already?_ she mused, fingering the envelopes. Usually the mail didn’t come until… Then, frowning, she grabbed the packages and sought out the digital clock on the mantel inside. 

Uh-oh.

“That can’t be right!” she sputtered aloud. The boxes tumbled from her grasp to the floor. 

The clock read quarter to three. In the afternoon. 

_Have I been playing the game all this time?_ she thought, aghast. _For six hours?!_

Nervously, Rey peered at the console, which she’d set on the coffee table. What kind of devilry made her lose track of not just hours but _half a day_? Was this some kind of new drug? Ha, no. Right? Could she get addicted to it? Well, maybe. Were there studies out there that proved Animal Crossing was the new crack cocaine? Uh....

Then Rey gasped and peered up the stairs. All this time she’d been worried about herself, but what about Ben? Had he been... _working_...all day? Stuck in the study with nothing but investment accounts and stock market prices and…uh, _expense ratios_...to keep him company?! 

She shuddered.

Grabbing the pile of envelopes and scooping the two packages off the floor, Rey started up the stairs, then stopped. Grumbling, she ran into the kitchen and filled a tall glass with ice cubes and water from the Brita filter, and then she climbed to the second floor. For a second she fumbled with the things in her hands, juggling the glass with the envelopes, positioning one package under her arm and trying to balance the other under her elbow. 

_Damnit_ , she thought, frustrated, when she spilled water on what looked like some sort of bill. _I’ll just drop these off in his room, I guess._

The study door was cracked, and when Rey walked by, she heard Ben’s voice. 

“...regressing back to a…”

“...no, not quite.” 

His voice faded, like he was moving in and out of range. Rey figured he was speaking loudly to someone on his laptop, then softening his voice when he remembered he wasn’t alone in the house. He always struggled with his volume control. 

“It seems there’s substantial difficulty…

“...and working through emotions. Obviously it’s not healthy,” he stressed, sounding miserable, and she imagined him running a hand through his hair. “But at this point, I’m trying to…”

“...hoarding food again…”

“...thinks I don’t notice.”

Absently, Rey wondered who he was talking to as she passed down the hall. Probably a co-worker or employee. It sounded like they were discussing the pandemic and all the morons who had started a toilet paper shortage. And, strangely, a peanut butter shortage. Which was annoying because last she’d checked, they only had a quarter left in the Jif Extra Crunchy jar. 

She tossed Ben’s packages on his bed while balancing the glass of water and eyed his room. Dark blue with grey accents - armchair by the window, massive bureau along the far wall, king-sized bed. The room was orderly and sparse. Probably because the bed took up most of the available space, but hey, if Rey owned a bed like that she’d rarely be caught anywhere else. Honestly, it was a wonder Ben spent as much time out of it as he did.

Thinking about color combinations and thread counts, which she still didn’t understand even after it’d been explained to her _twice_ , Rey again came within reach of Ben’s study door. 

“...avoid going there in the future. No way will I ever put…”

“...flinch sometimes, and seeing that, my mind goes blank. I don’t…” 

A long pause, and then, in a voice so low Rey was forced to press herself into the small opening of the door, Ben said, “Whenever that happens, whenever I see that _flinch_ , I see red. I swear to god, Peter, if I knew who was responsible for that look, if they were standing right in front of me, I would -”

He broke off, and a familiar, soothing voice interrupted. Rey brightened and, without thinking, pushed her way into the study.

“Uncle Chewie?”

Ben immediately swiveled in his chair, eyes widening when he saw her striding towards him. “Oh, uh, Rey, how long have you -”

“ _Uncle Chewie!_ ” she exclaimed, nudging Ben aside with her hip. She placed the water glass on the edge of his desk. 

On the laptop screen, grinning out at her from a Skype window, was Ben’s unofficial uncle, Peter “Chewie” Chew. He was all smiles, wearing a dark brown flannel shirt, his beard and facial hair so bushy and frazzled he might’ve passed for a mountain lion. God knew he was big enough to be mistaken for one. 

“Hey, kiddo, how are ya?” Uncle Chewie leaned closer to the screen, and Rey beamed back at him. It had been a few months since she’d talked to him over the phone, and even longer since she’d seen him in person. He lived somewhere in Montana, with the grizzlies and moose. 

Rey bent over Ben so Uncle Chewie could see her face clearly. “Living at your nephew’s house for now, so all things considered, pretty good.”

“You’re living with him now, huh?” He raised his eyebrows, and despite knowing how much he liked to tease her, Rey blushed.

“Only while the quarantine’s in effect,” she reassured him. “Otherwise -”

Rey sensed hands on her waist, and then Ben was pulling her into his lap. Placing his chin on her shoulder, he said to his uncle, “Otherwise nothing. She’s more than welcome to stay here.”

 _Oh, so now there are_ two _jokers in the house_ , she thought cynically, rolling her eyes. “Anyway,” she said, before Ben derailed the conversation, “how are you holding up? Has the virus hit the town yet?”

“Eh, not really,” he replied, rubbing his meaty hands together. “We hear reports ‘bout it daily now, like I expect everyone does, but I haven’t seen a case myself. There’s only about two hundred afflicted in the whole state so far…” 

He trailed off, but they all understood what he left unsaid: there would be many more to come.

“That’s...not so bad,” Rey said cautiously, unsure how to talk about this with a man so unflappable. Usually Chewie wasn’t affected by things like this - he was a survivalist, after all - but she could tell by the stiff way he sat and by the subdued tone of his voice that he was worried. 

“Just don’t leave the house if you don’t have to!” she said sternly.

Uncle Chewie chuckled. “Girl, I been doin’ that for eighteen years already. Ain’t nobody gotta remind me.” But then he seemed to reconsider, and added lightly, “But I’ll be on my best behavior. Just for you, sweet girl.” He winked.

Rey smiled and winked back, and behind her, Ben exhaled what sounded like a soft sigh of relief. His arms wound around her waist, holding her tightly to him. She could feel his chest against her back, broad and strong and safe. 

“Enough about me,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “What have you crazy kids been up to?” Assessing, his eyes roved over them both, pausing on the positioning of Ben’s arms. “You been behaving yourselves?”

She opened her mouth to tease him back, but Ben spoke first, and his voice was a little harder than she figured the situation warranted. “Everything’s just fine over here, Uncle Chewie. Rey and I have been keeping ourselves busy.”

Uncle Chewie locked eyes with Ben, and for a strange moment, Rey felt as if she was being left out of some kind of silent conversation. 

Rey patted Ben’s overlapping hands, laced across her stomach, and decided to break whatever weird energy was in the air. “We’ve been playing lots of video games, Uncle Chewie, and the other day we watched that new space trilogy! It was so good, and the last movie was _so_ satisfying!” 

Dialing it back a little, Rey added, “Nobody died, which is setting the bar low, I know, and all the characters got happy endings.” She reconsidered, then amended, “Well, except for the pulpy-looking villain. He was very definitely dead.”

Uncle Chewie smiled, but she could tell he’d only heard about half of that. Didn’t matter. As long as she could provide some levity, it would be okay. She didn’t like when things were tense, especially when she didn’t understand why.

“I’m glad,” Chewie said, and for his part, it sounded genuine. “Neither of you should be alone during this god-awful time.”

Rey’s smile was a little stiff, and she very consciously didn’t think about her episode two days ago. Imagine if she’d been alone. There would’ve been no Ben around to help calm her down. She would’ve been forced to handle it herself, which never ended well.

“According to Rey, I dragged her over here unwillingly, so -”

“Hey!” she exclaimed, and nudged him with her elbow. “I never said that!”

“I didn’t give you much of a choice,” he muttered, eyes downcast, but she could tell he was playing it up for their audience.

She laughed and tilted her head into his. “Don’t be like that. You know I’m happy to be here.”

“Not as happy as I am.” He smiled, eyes softening, and the butterflies started up in Rey’s stomach again. When he looked at her like that, everything else got a little hazy. 

Uncle Chewie cleared his throat, and Rey’s attention whipped back to the laptop screen. Slightly embarrassed, she said, “Oh! Um, anyway. How’s your girlfriend? What’s-her-face.” She’d always been bad with names.

“You mean Maz?” Chewie said dryly.

“Yes, that’s right!” Rey said, straightening in Ben’s lap. “How is she? Is she there?” Peter Chew was a notorious ladies’ man, but his relationships rarely lasted longer than a few months. His fling with Maz was nearing a year.

Uncle Chewie coughed uncomfortably. “Yes, well, you see… We’re takin’ a bit of a break right now.”

Rey’s face fell. “No! What happened?”

“Well, uh, she wanted to go on out to some island in the Caribbean, and I...didn’t,” he explained lamely. 

“So you broke up with her?” Rey was offended on Maz’s behalf. “Uncle Chewie!”

“I did _not_ break up with her,” he said sternly, wagging a finger at the screen. “As I said, we’re takin’ a little break. Couldn’t have come at a better time, too. She’s out in the ocean somewhere and I’m not allowed to leave the house for the time being.”

Rey scoffed. _Out in the ocean somewhere._ As if he didn’t have her exact location pinpointed.

“You better not break Maz’s heart,” she told him seriously. “I don’t want to have to fly out there and kick your ass.”

Uncle Chewie threw back his head and roared with laughter. Even Ben chuckled a little, his breath whispering hotly across the skin of her neck. She smiled too, even though she was dead serious. Maz was a total sweetheart, if a bit rough around the edges sometimes, and Rey would be genuinely crestfallen should she part ways with Ben’s uncle. 

“I’d like to see that,” Ben said, his voice low and amused.

“You’d let her come out here to do that?” Uncle Chewie asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

“I don’t _let_ her do anything. Where she goes, I go.”

Rey shifted a little, surprised by this admission, and Ben grunted, squeezing her to his chest like he expected her to pull away. This little interaction did not go unnoticed by Uncle Chewie.

“Listen,” the man said abruptly, “I’d like to talk with Rey for a bit.”

Silence from all three of them.

“Alone,” he added impatiently, straightening the cuffs of his flannel.

She sensed Ben stiffening around her, and she decided to once again head off a potential argument before it started. “Okay.”

A muscle in Ben’s jaw ticked. “You don’t have to, Rey.” 

She laughed lightly, pulling gently on his hands. “Ben, relax. It’s totally fine.”

Still tensed as if bracing for a hit, Ben stood up and set her on her feet. He turned her around in his arms and gave her a hard look. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Sheesh. Why was he acting so weird all of a sudden?

Rey poked his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, Mr. Big Shot.”

He rolled his eyes, withdrawing his arms. “Don’t compliment me.”

“That was an insult!” she called after him, but he merely waved his hand and pulled the door shut behind him.

Strangely flustered, Rey plopped down in the empty desk chair and rolled closer to the laptop. Uncle Chewie was studying her speculatively. 

“Okay, he’s gone. Can we gossip now?” she teased.

A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not much one for gossip, unfortunately.”

She sighed. “That is unfortunate.”

“I been wondering about you, Rey.” A pause. “How’ve you been?”

She shifted. Uncle Chewie was one of the very few people who understood more than just the very basics of her trauma. “Okay. You know, I’m out of work until this whole thing blows over, but I have enough saved until then.” This was only half true. She was out of work for the foreseeable future, yes, and she did have money saved, but only for a few weeks at most. She hoped this wasn’t transparent to him, though.

“You like it there? At Ben’s place?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, it’s great. You should see all the crazy shit he’s got, Uncle Chewie. So many books and video games, and even a coffee maker that has a _syrup_ setting. Like french vanilla and mocha. The fridge plays music if you connect it to his Spotify playlist!”

“That all sounds very neat,” he said, and Rey could tell by the tone of his voice that he found her adorable. Normally this would irritate her, but instead a warm glow suffused her body. _This is family_ , she told herself. 

“Now, Rey,” he continued, and she could instantly tell that he was going to say something serious, so she feigned casualness in an attempt to make whatever he was going to say easier. 

“What’s up?”

“Ben, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “He’s a good kid.”

Weird take, but okay. “Um, define _kid_.”

Uncle Chewie chuckled. “To me, at least, he’s a kid. To you...well…” He cleared his throat. “Uh, regardless, Ben has a kind heart.”

“I know he does,” she said simply.

“Good, good,” he said. A long silence. Rey could tell he wanted to say more. “He’s, uh, he’s had a nice life. An easy life, for the most part.”

Rey nodded, not really seeing where he was going with this.

“Of course, there’ve been some trials and tribulations in his life, just like most people. The death of his parents, obviously. That was a hard time.” He sighed. “But Ben’s had it good. So saying, sometimes it’s...hard...for him to understand pain.”

Her left eye twitched, and she started twisting her ring finger under the desk. “That’s a good thing, right? Not everyone should _have_ to understand it.”

Uncle Chewie’s head bobbed. “That is absolutely right, darlin’. He’s been lucky that way.”

 _Lucky._ That might not be the right word, but it was a true one.

“But, you see, Ben’s quick on the uptake. It doesn’t take him long to figure things out. That’s probably how he wound up a finance manager, you know.”

 _Finance manager._ Right. Rey pretended she knew what this meant and nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

He sighed again. “My point here, Rey, is that Ben is the one you want by your side in times of...crisis.” She could see what he’d really wanted to say flashing in his eyes - _in times of panic._ “He knows how to handle things. He knows how to…” Uncle Chewie paused, struggling for words. “To keep everything calm.”

Rey bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brow. _Okay…_

“Do you know what I’m sayin’, Rey?” he asked, a little desperately.

“Um, I’m not sure,” she said honestly, twisting, twisting, twisting her fingers.

Uncle Chewie rubbed his forehead tiredly. Was he sweating?

“You mean,” she said slowly, trying to help, “Ben can...take care of stuff?”

“Stuff,” he repeated blankly. “Uh, yes. Yes, that’s what I mean.”

Such a strange conversation. “Okay, then. Um, I get what you’re saying. Sort of.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“He been treating you good?” Uncle Chewie asked gruffly. 

“Ben?” She winced. _Well, duh, who else?_

He nodded, watching her closely.

“Of course,” she murmured. Lowering her voice, she dropped her eyes to the keyboard. “Um, he’s been really great. If I was alone, I don’t think it would be...good.”

Uncle Chewie grunted an acknowledgement.

“He’s my best friend,” she whispered. “And I…”

Chewie waited patiently. 

_You what?_ she asked herself fiercely. _You what, Rey?_

“I’m glad I’m here,” she said simply. 

He smiled. “Honey, I’m glad you’re there, too. It puts me at ease knowin’ you’re bein’ taken care of.”

Rey nodded, throat tight. A few more minutes of idle chit-chat, promises to stay in touch, and they ended the call.

She sat in silence for a little while, concentrating on deep-breathing exercises. Her fingers were numb from twisting them so much, and she shook them out to get some feeling back.

Down in the living room, Ben shot to his feet the second she appeared at the top of the stairs. He watched her descend, hands in his jeans pockets.

“Everything okay?” he asked carefully, searching her face.

She smiled, although some of her confusion seeped through. “I think so. Um, it was...kind of a weird conversation, actually.”

He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not...really?” At his crestfallen expression, she added hastily, “I mean, we just talked about you. Like, he asked me how I liked it here and stuff. If you were...uh, being a good host, I guess.”

He hummed thoughtfully, rocking back on his heels. “That’s it, huh?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, like I said - weird.”

“Why is that weird?” he asked, stepping closer.

“I don’t know, the questions just seemed really random.” Rey’s eyes wandered to the mantle. Almost four o’clock. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m tired,” Ben said abruptly, and held out his hands. “Nap?”

“O-oh.” Taken off guard, Rey reached for his hands automatically. He pulled her into his embrace and steered them both to the sofa. 

She tilted her head back to see his face. “Tired from all that investment-making?”

He smiled lopsidedly at her teasing tone. “Mhm. My investment-making abilities come very highly recommended, you know.”

She nodded, her face serious. “I see.”

Ben picked her up around the waist and lay her gently on the couch. Climbing around her, he settled with his back against the back cushions and pulled her close.

“Big spoon!” he announced, then aggressively nuzzled her neck.

She giggled, unable to help herself. “You’re literally always the big spoon. It’s the only position that makes sense.”

“Are you sizeist?”

“Uh, is that a thing?” She snuggled against him, pushing her back to his chest. His arm draped loosely around her waist, and she moved the other one under her head. The positioning was so familiar and comfortable that the effect was immediate - her eyes fell to half-mast and her entire body relaxed.

“There’s sexist and sexism, and there’s ageism and...ageist, I guess. So why not sizeist?”

“I think it’s past time for this nap,” she muttered into the sofa cushion, and his laughter vibrated down her spine.

“Google,” he called, “set an alarm for two hours.”

A brief pause and then, “ _Setting an alarm for six p.m._ ”

Ben lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her hair. “Mmm, you smell nice.”

“You always say that,” she murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep.

“Maybe because it’s always true.” His legs curled, knees pushing against the backs of her own.

A minute or two passed. Ben’s thumb stroked idly over her hip.

“I like taking naps with you.”

“I like taking naps with you too,” Rey said drowsily. “Now please be quiet, Ben.”

“Okay.”

A minute later, his lips pressed to the sensitive spot right behind her ear. She sighed dreamily.

“Have a good nap, sweetheart,” Ben whispered, and his voice followed her down into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **hmmmm are Uncle Chewie and Rey the two most awkward people in the universe? you decide.**
> 
> **in other news, poor baby Rey really only has one (1) brain cell, it’s true. please everyone, send her your regards.**
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	7. Fully Operational Battle Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **thank youuuu for the kudos and kind words!!! reading the reactions genuinely makes me laugh :')**
> 
> **pls notice the newest addition(s) to the tags!!**
> 
> **TW: very brief mention of vomiting**

** DAY SIX **

Somehow, despite all her many calculations, Rey had lost count. There were _fourteen_ cans of tuna in her collection, not twelve.. 

At least half were a generic brand from the local foodmart. The store’s prices were cheap, and since it was the closest supermarket to her apartment, she didn’t have to go out of her way. Two cans were Wild Planet brand, discounted because of the dents. The remaining handful of cans were various types that happened to be on sale. None of that fifty-seven cent brand though; she’d gotten sick from it more than once. 

Rey’s fingers skipped lightly over the lids as she mouthed the numbers. Eight, nine, ten, eleven… She did this twice, then moved on to chip bags. 

A memory caught at the edges of her mind. 

_“Not exactly long-lasting, dearest.”_

_Rey startles, calculations interrupted._

_Rita smirks down at her, hefting a knockoff Louis Vuitton over her prodigious shoulder. “I thought you were some kind of math genius?”_

_Ducking her head, Rey continues to silently sort the bags of potato chips. Prioritization is key here; if taste doesn’t matter, and to her it never does, then price should be considered first. But should she factor in longevity too? Rita seems to think so._

_Rey frowns. “The expiration dates are still a few months away.”_

_Her foster mother’s face darkens. “Don’t back-talk me, child.”_

_Rey swallows, nervous, but reminds herself they’re in the snack aisle at Walmart. Rita can’t hit her here. Maybe later, though, when nobody’s around._

_“It doesn’t matter if the expiration date is tomorrow or next year. When you’re stockpiling - and child,” Rita sniffs, eyeing her, “you most definitely are, don’t think I can’t see that - if you’re storing up for the long-haul, you buy things that’ll last. Why waste time and money on chips when you can get beans?”_

_Rey pauses, seriously considering this. She’s twelve and not very bright - at least according to five of her previous foster families - but even she can tell this is a noteworthy bit of advice._

_Still._

_“What if I like them?” she says._

_Rita scoffs, throws up her hands, and pushes the car out of the aisle._

Maybe it wasn’t practical, but Rey really liked potato chips. Always had, since she was very small. Compared to the tuna, their expiration dates were significantly shorter, but the flavor was significantly _better_ , and taste had come to mean a lot more to her in recent years. 

All of the bags were hand-sized. Doritos. Lay’s. Ruffles. Cheetos. Oh, did Rey _love_ Cheetos. 

“Ten,” she said under her breath, then counted them again, shuffling a few bags around. Sometimes she got an unexplainable itch, and she couldn’t quite scratch it until she changed things around. This could take as briefly as twenty seconds or as long as thirty minutes. 

Rey methodically sorted through beans - red, pinto, black, and soy - and other nonperishables, humming under her breath. The low vibration helped keep the panic at bay, and the panic was never really far behind. The organization itself, the categorization and tallying of prices and quantity, had always soothed her.

_She scurries up to her small bedroom, raised voices trailing behind her. Biggs and Batine are at it again, and by the end of the night something’s bound to be broken - either a beer bottle or an appendage, only time will tell._

_Rey doesn’t stick around to find out._

_She flies upstairs on the balls of her feet and into the miniscule closet, shoving aside some clothes that aren’t hers. (Hera’s shopping addiction has already filled up her own closet and overflowed into Rey’s. She doesn’t mind; it’s not like she owns more than three tee-shirts, anyway.)_

_In the back of the closet, hidden on a low shelf, is Rey’s food. Cans and bags and even, implausibly, some dried fruit. Her stockpile. Her obsession, secret from and hopefully unnoticed by the Lekkisons._

_Hoarding tendencies, the social worker had warned the couple with a raised eyebrow, as if this meant something._

What a load of bullshit. 

_As she begins counting, settling into a familiar rhythm, Rey’s heartbeat slows. Her fingers stop tingling. The panic recedes._

Everything’s going to be okay, _she tells herself, sorting and categorizing and tallying._ As long as you keep at it, as long as everything’s put in its perfect place, it’ll be okay. No one will ever know this is here. It’ll all work out just fine.

Everything’s going to be okay…

_With this mantra in mind, she reaches for another can._

A deep, satisfied sigh escaped, and Rey carefully restocked the items on the bottom of the nightstand, then placed her clothes in a haphazard pile in front of it all, as camouflage.

She stared at it a moment, and even though she couldn’t see the food anymore, a warm, proud glow suffused her. She’d done it. The food was where it needed to be, just in case, and Ben had no idea. Not that what she was doing was bad or anything, though. It was just better he didn't know. She didn’t want to make things weird for him.

Rey climbed to her feet, dusting her hands off. It was early, maybe eighty-thirty, and outside the skies were dark. _More rain,_ she thought morosely. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night and had woken unnaturally early; she’d been consumed with thoughts of food again. This happened occasionally. Rey still wasn’t sure what set it off. 

She decided to see what Ben was up to. Of course, he was likely busy with investor money-making stuff, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t check on him. Just a quick peek. You know, to make sure everything was okay. See if he needed anything. Maybe a glass of water?

Rey headed down the hall. As she drew closer she heard his voice, and the deep baritone did something strange to her stomach. It was like, maybe she wanted to throw up, or maybe she wanted to hug him as hard as she could. 

Hmm.

Rey put her hand on the doorknob and eased the study door open, not wanting to interrupt if he was on a Zoom call or something. She poked her head in.

Ben was in his desk chair, elbows on the armrests, hands gesturing expansively. His ankle was crossed over his left knee, and Rey couldn’t help but think he looked relaxed. Comfortable. In his element. 

Her eyes roved over his gray slacks and soft black sweater. _It’s almost summertime,_ she wanted to scold him. _Temperatures are in the seventies every day! Dress light!_

He was talking enthusiastically, and it looked like there was someone on his laptop screen in a Skype window, so maybe not work-related after all - 

Ben laughed, and her heart lurched in her chest. There was a woman on the laptop screen. Even from the doorway, Rey could tell she was striking. Dirty blonde hair. Long, elegant swan neck. Cheekbones like a goddess. A flash of teeth as she smiled at Ben, and when she next spoke, her body tilted toward the screen like she was unconsciously trying to get closer, her eyes sparkling. 

For a terrifying second, Rey was absolutely certain she was going to spew chunks all over the nice hardwood floors. 

Uh-oh.

She blinked and found herself already halfway down the hallway. Had she closed the study door? Had she called out to Ben? Her memory had skipped again. 

Goosebumps broke out on her arms, and she rubbed her bare skin, wishing she’d put on a hoodie. Why was she wearing shorts, anyway? It was cold in the house, wasn’t it? Maybe it was a little warm outside nowadays, yeah, but Ben liked to keep his AC relatively low, and besides, she’d always considered her knees to be awkward and knobby and best kept hidden - 

Rey stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. She stared blankly around the room, mind working overtime to try and decipher what had been going on in Ben’s study. She tried on a smile, as if she could fool herself into thinking everything was fine, but it felt unnatural because she didn’t understand what she’d seen. _Make it make sense,_ she commanded herself. 

_Okay, well. Obviously, it was work-related. Ben’s always on some call or in a conference meeting in the morning, Rey - you know this. Between the hours of seven and ten, historically. Maybe the woman’s a co-worker, and she was helping him with a spreadsheet. Why do you care, anyway?_

Rey pressed the heel of her palm to her eye, rubbing furiously. _I_ don’t _care_ , she told herself stubbornly, wishing it was true. _He’s my friend, and he’s allowed to find other women attractive, he’s allowed to flirt and date and -_

 _Yes, but why was he_ laughing _?_ the evil little voice pressed, shaking its head. _Investing is very important for the financial economy, right, you know that much, so what was so funny? If anything, that woman was distracting him. He’s probably not getting any work done now. She was smiling at him with her teeth, and didn’t you read somewhere that the baring of teeth, no matter the context, is supposed to be a sign of interest? C’mon now, Rey, you have to admit, the woman was very lovely, anyone can see that, and successful too, apparently, if she’s a fellow colleague, so what’s not to love? Really, it’s no wonder Ben was laughing, you would be too if -_

Her thoughts scattered for a second as her gaze fixed on a door. The basement. Ben had told her early on, after he first moved into the townhouse, that he only planned on keeping boxes and storage containers down there. It was a large space, she remembered, at least based on her one and only glimpse, and Ben had never been one for clutter - 

Without a second thought, Rey yanked the door open and descended into the basement. 

It was much, much cooler down here. In fact, it might just be _cold_. Once again, Rey regretted not taking a moment to bundle up, especially after the goosebumps took over earlier. Now they were even worse, and maybe it was just her - it was _probably_ just her - but weren’t her legs already looking a little blue…?

With a fierce shake of her head, Rey hunched her shoulders and pushed herself further into the basement. She needed to get away from everything for a little while before she combusted. In the back of her mind, she understood that she was being overdramatic again, that she could’ve just _asked_ Ben what he was doing, but the part of her that always felt like a nuisance had balked at the idea. It was better to hide and sort through her feelings by herself instead of potentially attacking him. 

It was actually not scary down in the basement, contrary to her initial assumption. Cold, maybe, but there were sporadic lights fixed to the ceiling, which gave the large room quite a bit of illumination, enough for Rey to easily see into all four corners. No monsters lurking, thankfully.

The walls and floor were made of smoothed-over concrete, and in the corner farthest from the stairs were about two dozen cardboard boxes piled in short columns. Rey’s curiosity propelled her towards them, and even as she shivered in her thin shirt and shorts, her mind was readily calculating the probability of there being embarrassing baby pictures somewhere.

Thirty years. Twelve boxes. There had to be at least _one_ incriminating photo of baby Ben. It was only fair she be the one to find it. 

Rey knew this endeavor was merely a way for her to distract her racing mind, but she rolled with it willingly enough. _None of your business,_ she reminded herself, picking through a few empty photo albums. _None of your business, none of your business, he’s none of your business -_

She paused, her fingers on the verge of flipping to another page. Underneath one of the piles of boxes was a brightly-colored container. Pastel blues and yellows and reds. Almost like a… She paused to think for a second, but then her mind latched on to the name. Toy chest.

Excitement coursed through Rey. She never had a toy chest of her own. Whenever she moved into a new foster house, the children living there always made it clear that the chest and toys inside were not to be handled by the likes of her. They marked their territory, which, in Rey’s opinion, was only right, after all. Why should they trust a stranger to care for their toys?

Still, some of that suppressed anticipation must still linger, because Rey found herself shoving aside boxes to get to the chest. Of course it was buried in the center of the pile, so she had to work hard to get there. 

She lifted a box filled with folders and binders, probably from Ben’s grade school days, and she wondered again if she might come across any photo albums. It’d be cool to recognize someone she actually knew, instead of whole families that were unfamiliar. Rey always had to pretend to be impressed by the awkward family reunion photos and staged-looking candids.

Finally, she grabbed on to the last box. It was heavier than the others, and several objects shifted suddenly to the side, making her teeter precariously for balance. _You better not make a mess,_ a hoarse male voice reminded her suddenly. _You make a mess, you’ll be in trouble. You cause trouble in this house, you won’t be here long._

Taken by surprise, Rey’s foot hit the side of another box, upsetting her equilibrium, and she tripped.

Strong hands clasped over hers, righting her and the box before its contents spilled all across the basement floor.

A laugh. “I knew I heard -”

Rey screamed and let go.

**_Flash._ **

_She’s ten. She’s in the attic, which is a place she’s not supposed to be. But it’s nice and warm up here, while the house is so cold. No one will give her a jacket to wear, even though she was shivering so much her teeth chattered. They laughed and told her to grow up._

_She’s playing with some dolls she found in a plastic container. Dolls meant for toddlers, for kids maybe a year or two out of diapers. But Rey likes the rosy cheeks and pretty dresses and silly gadgets, so she plays with them. She wishes she had a pretty dress._

_“What are you doing?”_

_Rey chokes on a scream and releases the two dolls in her hands. The curly-haired one lands facedown on the attic floor._

_“I thought Mom told you not to come up here.”_

_The boy is a few years older than her, a freshman in high school. His body is big and imposing and solid. She can’t remember his name, and at this point she’s too afraid to ask. Ever since she moved in, on the few occasions he bothered to talk to her, the boy made it clear he was disgusted by her presence. Best to stay out of his way, she figures._

_“Hello?” He pretends to rap his knuckles on the top of her head. “Anyone in there?”_

_Rey scooches back on the creaky wood floor, watching him nervously. He’s standing in front of the door, which she doesn’t like._

_The boy steps closer, hands clasped behind his back. “You’re going to get in trouble.”_

_Rey’s breath caught. She’d just transferred to the house a few weeks ago. The social workers will be mad if they have to move her again so soon._

_“Maybe I won’t tell though.”_

_Slowly, her shoulders relax. He’s being nice._

_The boy smiles. It’s not a_ nice _smile. “I guess that depends.”_

_Rey finds her voice, though it shakes. “On what?”_

_“On what happens next.”_

**_Flash._**

Rey stumbled and fell on her backside, her tailbone meeting the cement floor with a hard thump. She could hear herself gasping, but she couldn’t help that. _Not good, not good, not good._ When people snuck up on her, she couldn’t think straight for a while after. She _hated_ being surprised.

“ _Shit._ ” Ben shoved the box in his arms to the side, not caring that the contents might be delicate, and crouched in front of her, arms extended. “ _Fuck._ Rey, I’m -”

She held out a hand, cringing. “Wait.”

Ben retracted his arms and ran a hand over his jaw. He was very, very pale. “ _Fuck_ ," he repeated. "Are you okay? Rey, I -”

Rey shook her head rapidly. _Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking._

Her chest hurt really bad, and so did her head. Like her heart and brain might explode.

_I guess that depends._

Rey closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her palm to the center of her forehead. This was supposed to help relieve stress, she’d read that in an article online, but she didn’t think it ever worked. Still, it gave her something to do, and she didn’t have to see that expression on Ben’s face. That horror-struck, devastated expression. 

He was quiet for a minute, but then he shifted, and Rey could tell he was moving closer. She tensed but didn’t say anything.

 _It’s not_ his _fault you’re such a wuss,_ she berated herself. _Maybe if you actually paid attention for once -_

“I’m going to touch you now,” he warned, and then his hands were on her legs, pushing them down. She obeyed limply, keeping her eyes shut, afraid that to open them would be to invite more memories. That was something she absolutely could not handle. 

Ben scooped her up, one hand going under her knees, the other across her back. He didn’t stand up and bring her upstairs though, which she expected. Instead, he sat down in her place and gently folded her into his lap. With his back against the concrete wall, he wrapped his arms tightly around her body. Her head met his chest, his heartbeat pulsing a frantic rhythm beneath her ear. 

Desperately, she focused on the sound. _Ben is alive. Which means I’m alive. We’re in his basement. Which means I’m at his house. I’m twenty-one, not ten. I’m an adult now. I’m not there anymore._

_I’m not there._

All at once, calm descended. Like a blanket had dropped over everything, muffling the bad emotions, snuffing them out. 

Rey opened her eyes. “Your heart.”

“It’s still there, right?” Ben asked huskily, the rumble of his voice vibrating through her body. His fingers on her arms were shaking, just a little, but Rey had always been attuned to that kind of thing.

She smiled a little. “Yeah, it’s still there.”

A pause. “What about my heart?”

“It’s beating so fast.”

Ben was silent.

Rey shifted in his lap. “Usually your heart is steady. It calms me down.” _But not now,_ she didn’t say, listening intently. _Now it’s running like a racehorse._

“Mm.”

She didn’t press him. If he wanted to tell her what was wrong, he’d tell her. Simple.

“You screamed,” he said finally, eons or seconds later. 

“Yeah,” Rey sighed, wincing. _Overdramatic much?_ “Yeah, I did. Sorry.”

“No apologizing,” he growled, squeezing her knee.

Oh, right. She’d forgotten. He apparently had a problem with her apologizing needlessly, which, much to her chagrin, almost made her do it again. She nuzzled her face into his chest and breathed quietly. 

“I didn’t like it.”

Several minutes had passed now. Rey had lost the thread of the conversation. “What?”

“That you screamed. I didn’t….” Ben inhaled slowly and let it out almost like the action itself pained him. His voice was...unsteady. “I didn’t like that.”

“Oh.” Had she scared him, too? There was no way he could’ve known that appearing so suddenly would make her scream. Maybe he just didn’t want to admit to his fear. Male ego and all. 

“You surprised me, that’s all,” she told him, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. Still really fast. “I was distracted, and you...surprised me.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. Rey was growing concerned. Was thirty too young to have a heart attack?

“Ben?” She lifted her head from his chest so she could look into his face, which was even paler than normal, his eyes so dark they were almost black.

He swallowed loudly and tried to smile. “How’s my heart now?”

“Worse.”

He laughed, a little breathlessly. His eyes flickered across her face, taking in her taut expression. “I’m sorry.”

Rey touched a hand to his cheek. “For what? You have nothing to be sorry for. No apologizing, remember? Or does that only apply to me?”

“You apologize when you don’t need to,” he said in a low voice, eyes stormy. “That’s different.”

She rolled her eyes, but teasingly. “No, it’s not. You’re doing the same thing. I was thinking about -” Rey caught herself in time. “...things, and I didn’t hear you come down. It’s nobody’s fault.”

No response.

Placing a hand on his chest, focusing on his heartbeat, Rey gasped. “Ben! Seriously, you _need_ to calm down. Did I scare you that badly?”

Ben’s hand slid around her neck, his thumb pressing lightly on the hollow of her throat. That was when she realized his hands were not just shaking but cold as ice.

Panic bloomed, momentarily dimming the corners of her vision. Was Ben sick? Was he legitimately at risk of having a heart attack right now? Should she call an ambulance?

“Yes,” he said finally, eyes on hers. “Yes, you scared me.”

Rey’s face fell. _Why did I have to scream?!_ “Oh, no. I’m -” She shook a finger in his face before he could so much as open his mouth. “Don’t even go there, Ben. I'm really...I’m so sorry. Please don’t have a heart attack.”

Ben smiled a little, but his face was still dead pale. His thumb was still caressing the hollow of her throat, and for some reason this made things infinitely harder. She couldn’t focus when he touched her like this. 

“What can I do?” she asked, eyes wide and imploring. “Let me make you better.”

“I scared you, you scared me -” He broke off with a wan smile. “We’re a mess.”

Rey nodded. “When aren’t we though? Now tell me what I can do.”

Ben licked his lips and cast a glance around the basement, eyes lingering on the pile of cardboard boxes.

“What were you doing down here?”

Rey brightened, pleased he was making an effort. That was an easy one. “There’s a toy chest I wanted. Right there.” She pointed, turning her head only a little; his grip on her throat was pretty tight, and she didn't think he knew it. 

“Oh?”

His voice was distant, but she did her best to distract him. And herself. She didn’t want to think about just _why_ she’d been going through the boxes in his basement in the first place. It definitely wasn’t because she wanted to get away from his laughter and the woman on his laptop screen. Nope, definitely not. 

“Yeah, I was curious,” she said lightly. “I mean, at first I thought maybe I’d find a photo album from your childhood, and I could blackmail you with an embarrassing picture from when you were six or something.” Rey sighed dramatically. “But alas, instead I found a toy chest. Which may provide a different sort of blackmail. We’ll see.”

Ben’s lips pulled up at the corners, enough for her to breathe a sigh of relief. His heart-rate was slowing, so she kept talking.

“I never had one of my own. A toy chest, I mean. The houses I lived in, the ones that could afford it anyway, usually had a chest for each of their kids,” she explained, “but they never shared with me.”

Ben’s fingers flexed on her waist. 

“No big deal,” she said breezily, then laughed at herself. “That’s a lie. At the time, it was a _very_ big deal. But...you know. Whatever.”

“I would’ve shared with you,” he murmured softly.

Rey smiled and touched the tip of her finger to the corner of his mouth. “I know, silly. And I would’ve been more than happy to play with you.”

“Even if our only options were, say, half-bitten Power Rangers and third-tier Marvel superheroes?”

Rey rolled her eyes and pressed harder on his mouth. “Oh, yes, because girls can’t like those things, too. Don’t be sexist.”

“That’s not sexist, that’s…”

She raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little…”

Rey sighed dramatically. “It starts young.”

Ben nipped playfully at her finger. She noticed his face was no longer pale - well, it was back to its normal shade, anyway - and his heart had stopped its frantic beating. Not quite normal, but nowhere near where it had been. 

“Can you take your hand off my throat?”

Ben pretended to consider, and maybe it was only her imagination, but did his hand actually tighten? “Actually, the idea of throttling you sometimes - and only sometimes - gives me great pleasure.”

She choked on a laugh. “Oh, does it now? The many ways I could potentially throttle _you_ sometimes - and only sometimes - keeps me up at night.”

“Oh, does it now?” he mimicked, eyes boring into hers. “Care to elaborate?”

“Which part? The throttling or -”

“No, the _keeping you up at night,_ ” he said, leaning down a little so their noses bumped. “That part.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think you want to know the details.”

“You would be wrong about that,” he muttered, but he finally slid his hand off her throat. Rey immediately missed the pressure, despite the almost uncomfortable tightness, like he’d been afraid to let go.

She surged out of his lap, figuring if he was making jokes he must be out of the danger zone, and gestured grandly to the toy chest. “Ta-da!”

Ben climbed to his feet. The motion should’ve been awkward and maybe even clumsy because of his height, but for whatever reason it was instead quite graceful. Rey couldn’t help her jealousy. Why was he so good at _everything?_ Talk about unfair.

“This is what all the hubbub’s been about, huh?” he asked, hands on his hips. 

Rey giggled. “Hubbub? What are you, fifty?”

Ben grumbled and rolled his eyes. “You gonna call me grandpa again?”

“Well, _now_ I’m not. You have to be offended when I call you that, and I’ve lost the element of surprise.”

Rey clammered around the haphazard piles of cardboard boxes until she came to the toy chest. Unable to suppress her excitement, she lifted the lid and peeked inside. She gasped, then smiled widely.

“Legos!” She made a soft cooing noise. “Aw, that’s so cute. Look how many!”

Rey turned around to see where Ben was - shouldn’t he be here too? Hello, these were his toys, after all - and found him staring at her oddly. She didn’t recognize his expression, which bothered her a little.

“What?”

After a too-long second, he shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Well, come here!”

Ben pushed the lid further up, revealing at least a few thousand Lego bricks of varying sizes and colors. His smile was soft, and she knew instinctively that he was remembering his childhood. Maybe his parents weren’t around anymore, but his memories of them were good ones.

“Why don’t we take them upstairs?” he suggested.

Rey blinked. “Really? You want to?”

“Why not? You’ve never gotten to play with them before, right?”

Rey pouted a little. “That’s true…”

“Case closed.” Ben shut the lid and hefted the toy chest into his arms with ease. She didn’t want to be impressed, but those bulging biceps were very much in her line of view. She kept her eyes on him as they climbed the stairs. 

In the living room, he set the toy chest down then, reconsidering, shoved it over onto its side. Lego pieces spilled everywhere, covering the floor of the room with blue and red and yellow bricks. She didn’t miss the smile on his face, and her heart melted a little.

“So what are we making?”

“Building,” he corrected immediately, sifting through the plastic bricks.

“Oh my god,” she said, wide-eyed. “You really are a nerd.”

He shrugged and settled down on the floor, folding his long legs in a pretzel-like style. “I’ve never denied that.”

“Still,” she said, plopping down across from him. “You’re so brazen about it. I mean, Legos? Really? That’s like -”

“Hey,” he said, cutting her off. He shook a firm finger at her. “Do not mock my childhood hobbies. That’s a hard limit.”

Rey’s stomach jumped at his phrasing, but she quickly shook the feeling off.

“Are you sure they’re _childhood_ hobbies?” she stressed, raising an eyebrow.

He mock-glared, picking up several blue pieces. “Fairly.”

Rey bit her lip and watched as he went about sorting the bricks by color and size like this was a totally normal thing for him to be doing on a Thursday afternoon. When, she realized, he should be working.

“Oh, no,” she said unthinkingly, and Ben’s head shot up at once.

“What’s wrong?”

She rubbed her hands over her cheeks anxiously. “I’ve interrupted your work. Shouldn't you be, I don’t know, on a Zoom call or investing in something?”

His lips curved. “ _Investing in something?_ Your total lack of comprehension in this field never fails to amuse me, you know.”

She frowned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But seriously.”

“Seriously.” Ben shrugged and laughed a little. “Maybe I’m taking a long lunch.”

“Isn’t it technically brunch-time now?”

He stuck his tongue out at her goofily. “Semantics.”

Rey was surprised. His attitude had made a total one-eighty-degree flip. She might’ve imagined his racing heart and shaking hands, if not for the faint, lingering paleness of his face as he began to stack the Legos.

She clammered to her knees and reached for some Legos, figuring if he wasn’t concerned about missing work, she wouldn’t be either. While collecting some red bricks, she accidentally knocked over a meticulously assembled pile.

“Shit,” she said, waving her hands with distress. “I’m knocking everything over today.” 

“No big deal, babe,” he said carelessly, his attention on the Legos.

 _Babe?_ Rey almost keeled over. They had many nicknames for each other, but he’d never called her _that_ before.

“Are you okay?” 

Ben looked up at her, eyes bright. “Yeah, why?”

She narrowed her own eyes suspiciously. “You seem awfully...happy.”

He laughed again, then leaned over to kiss her temple. Rey’s stomach fluttered for a moment before her suspicion deepened into dread. This could only be the result of one thing: the flirty woman on his laptop. Why else would he rebound from the edge so quickly? 

“Good day at work so far?” she asked casually, keeping her eyes on the Legos. Apparently he had a thing for the red and blue bricks, so she started gathering all the yellow ones. 

He hummed thoughtfully. “It hasn’t been bad, actually.”

 _Oh, I bet._

“Huh.” Rey forced herself to examine a broken action figure, her fingers fumbling with its shooting mechanism. She guessed it had gotten mixed in with the Legos and no one had ever noticed. 

“How are you?”

Rey looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

For all intents and purposes, Ben looked completely engrossed in his Legos, but she could tell by the tense set of his shoulders that he was paying close attention to her reactions. 

“I mean, are you feeling okay? You seemed lost in thought for a second.”

Of course he would notice. Sometimes it was a little disturbing how attuned he was to her moods. Not that she was complaining; no one had ever known her so well.

“I’m fine now,” she assured him, and it was almost the truth. “Tell me about work.”

“Like, investment stuff?” he said with a small smile.

“No, I mean…” Rey faltered. She didn’t know what she meant. Except...well, she kind of did. But no way would she admit to Ben that she’d overheard his conversation with that woman, whoever she was, and had fled the room in a jealous rage. That was so unlike her, too, which made the whole thing even more embarrassing. 

Ben seemed to pick up on her reluctance. “Work is work. I’ve been on conference calls all day. Early this morning we had an incident with an employee, and I had to check in with his boss to make sure things were okay.”

“Oh?” she asked, wondering why the yellow bricks didn’t seem to be fitting together as well as the red and blue bricks. Maybe Ben had the magic touch or something.

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She clarified a few things when I checked in, and I realized the situation had been blown out of proportion. I was pretty relieved, honestly. It’s hard to manage employees remotely and even harder to discipline them.”

Rey hadn’t heard a single thing he said after the first word. “She?”

Ben gave her an odd look. “The boss. Satine Kryze. She’s in charge of human resources.”

“I see.” And, much to her mortification, Rey did. 

The woman on the Skype call this morning had been nothing more than a fellow colleague. No, not even that; she worked _for_ Ben. They hadn’t been talking about personal things, after all. Human resources had to be called in for employee relations issues, and Ben was often the first line of defense for disputes in his department. 

_“I realized the situation had been blown out of proportion.”_

_That_ was why Ben had seemed so relaxed, so at ease. They hadn’t been _flirting._ The problem, whatever it was, just hadn’t been as big of an issue as he was led to believe - of _course_ he was relieved.

“Well,” Rey said, clearing her throat. She successfully kept her blush at bay. “I’m glad things worked out.”

“I’m surprised you’re taking an interest, Rey. Usually, as soon as I mention work, you totally zone out.”

“It’s not because I’m uninterested,” she told him, surprised by his assessment. Did he really think she didn’t _want_ to know anything about the place he spent fifty hours a week in? “I just don’t really get it. Any of it.”

“All you need to do is ask me,” he said, his voice low and soft, like he was trying to be gentle. “If you’re confused about anything, I’m more than willing to explain whatever you need, Rey.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, and suddenly found herself suppressing tears. This was part of the reason she loved Ben so much. He was always so _kind._

“Can we have macaroni and cheese tonight?” she asked abruptly. Had she just said she _loved Ben?_ The notion was more than a little alarming. 

Ben perked up, Legos dangling from his fingers. “Yes, of course.”

“Extra cheese,” she added, squinting her eyes at him.

He squinted right back at her. “If that’s what you want.”

It was exactly what she wanted. Mac and cheese was Ben’s favorite meal. Strange, for a man who usually appeared so polished, but it was a lesser-known secret Rey had kept close to her heart for quite a while now. He pretended to scowl and roll his eyes, but really, the dish reminded him of dinner with his parents.

She stared at Ben, her heart full. Why was he so perfect? Rather, _how_ was he so perfect? Despite her frequent trauma-induced episodes, Ben never got angry or even frustrated with her. He always remained calm and steady, ready to assist her at a moment’s notice. Rey wished she could be as solid. Maybe, just maybe, that was why she’d slipped up earlier, why she’d actually thought the words _love_ and _Ben_ in the same sentence. 

He caught her staring and smiled. “What’s up?”

Wordlessly, Rey rose to her feet and went to him. She kneeled by his crossed legs and threw her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said softly, pressing her chin to his shoulder. 

His big hands circled her waist instantly. “I’m glad _you’re_ here.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, and even though he couldn’t see her face, she smiled widely. _This man, I swear._ “It’s not a competition, silly.”

“Maybe I want to make it one.”

“What does that mean?” she murmured, looking out the window over his shoulder as the skies began to clear. Sunshine spilled through the living room, slicing through the gloom. 

“It means I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

“Well, that _is_ part of what makes this a quarantine, you know,” she said teasingly. 

Rey felt his lips at the base of her throat. No pressure, no movement - he was just resting them there. Goosebumps prickled along her skin. 

“I just wanted to remind you,” he said quietly, arms trying to pull her back into his lap, which almost made her laugh. _Does he think he’s being stealthy?_

Rey struggled halfheartedly against his insistent tugging, knowing that if he really, genuinely wanted to, he could pull her to him with minimal effort. 

“No, no,” she scolded him, “no, you don’t.” She grabbed his arms and peeled them from her waist, which made him pout. “You have a Lego empire to build, remember?”

Like she’d done to him in the basement, Ben pressed a finger to the corner of her mouth. “I remember.”

She smiled, poked him in the chest, and surveyed the landscape of Legos before them.

“Then let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **just wanted to point out that sometimes Rey may exhibit child-like behaviors because of her trauma. she's never really dealt with it, at least in a healthy way, and so she may seem immature at times when dealing with certain situations, like the jealousy in this chapter :)**
> 
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	8. A Bad Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **hello i hope you all are well! here's the next chapter right on time---most of my updates for this fic will be on tuesdays, if you haven't noticed that already (at least until I say otherwise)**
> 
> **!!also!! this is the halfway point woooooo! as you'll see, this chapter proves to be a bit of a ~subtle~ turning point. the first half of this fic was filled with Suffering, and the second half of this fic will be more focused on Recovery**
> 
> **side note: there's a few traumatic/intense flashbacks in the beginning of this chap [foster care abuse] but after that...............F L U F F**

**DAY SEVEN---part I**

In the dead of night, Rey dreamed. 

_A cup smashes on the wall by her head, and Rey hits the ground running._

_Raised voices filter after her as she runs. Shouting, cursing, raging. More glass breaks. More shrieks of fury, wordless and terrifying._

_“And don’t you dare come back, you fucking bitch!”_

_She tears down the dark, silent streets, breath ragged in her lungs. It’s mid-summer, and even in the dead of night it doesn’t take long for sweat to roll down her back and between her breasts. Cicadas fill the air with their chirping, fireflies blinking on and off like signals in the dark._

_Heaving, gasping, stumbling, Rey exits the rundown neighborhood and turns down an outlying road, one that’s usually busy during the day but next to empty at night. Her legs push and push and push her forward - far from that house with the red faces and heavy hands and stinging, whip-quick marks._

_She doesn't know how far it is to the nearest bus or train station. She hasn't been allowed on the internet in such a long time, and she rarely leaves the house since school let out a month ago. There’s no way for Rey to know where she is in relation to the rest of the town. In the dark, everything is turned around and confusing._

_Miles later - surely it must be miles, she runs until her legs cramp and her lungs are fit to burst - Rey staggers to an abrupt stop by the side of the road, high grass tickling her ankles. She bends at the waist, placing her hands on her knees, and concentrates on breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. Around here, she’s learned, it’s good to know how to run, and run well. Even with this in mind, it’s a few minutes until she straightens._

_Wiping sweat from her eyes, Rey squints into the darkness. Lights clump in the distance; it must be the main part of town. She knows she’s run in the right direction - she passed the abandoned diner a few blocks back - and there’s nothing else out this way. The skin on her arms prickles, and her mind instantly latches on to her surroundings, sifting through the shadows in an effort to separate reality from imagination._

_Trees. Light posts. Run-down motel. Grass. Litter. Streets and sidewalks and commercial trucks._

Nothing out of place, _she assures herself shakily._ Nothing that shouldn’t be here.

_Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Rey begins to trek towards the main street. It looks close, but looks are deceiving, and she knows it might still be a mile or more before she reaches any sort of civilization. Her only consolation is that nobody will come looking. Not out here._

_Not for her._

_Feverishly, she runs through her (very limited) options, and it doesn’t take long to come up with the only viable one. Buy a one-way ticket, find a bus, and don’t look back. Foster kids are constantly disappearing, and no one cares enough to go searching after them. It’ll be so easy for her. Ten years in the system already, and not a single person to remember her. Maybe that’s for the best._

_Except._

_There’s a thought in the back of her mind, one that’s always been there but tends to keep its distance except in vulnerable moments like this. Moments when her guard is down, when her doubts rear their ugly, shameful heads. Moments when she tells herself to have hope._

_This voice says,_ You can run, Rey, you can run and run and run until your bones collapse under the strain, you can run until your lungs burst, you can run until you reach the edge of the world itself, and even then, even there at the end, you will have no one. There will be no home, no happy smiles, no hugs or laughter. 

No love, _the voice hisses, and titters._

_Silent tears on her cheeks, Rey steps forward._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the dead of night, Rey dreamed.

_The bathroom door bulges alarmingly outward as he throws his body against it. The hinges whine and strain in the doorframe, and she watches, utterly terrified, unable to rise from the toilet, as he batters himself in a rage._

_“Open the fucking door! Open the fucking door!” The words themselves may sound human, but the noises are not; they snarl and twist and deform in his mouth._

_With shaking fingers, Rey pulls her shorts up and, unthinkingly, flushes the toilet. She stands there in the bathroom, trembling, knowing she should go and open the door herself before things get worse. If he breaks in before she lets him in, there’ll be hell to pay. And yet she can’t move. Her limbs are frozen, as if encased in ice._

_“You bitch, you stupid cunt, get the fuck out of there!” His voice rises to a high pitch, and she knows it’s too late anyway. He’s worked himself up into a frenzy. It doesn’t take much._

_Rey can’t move._

_The door bulges again, the wood rattling, and then finally, finally, the entire thing rips from the wall. He stumbles in immediately after, kicking aside splinters and the broken doorknob, which rolled between his feet. His eyes are wild, distant and glazed, like he’s seeing something that’s not really there._

_“You,” he hisses, spit flying._

_She can’t move._

_He grabs her roughly, pulling on her arm so hard she’s afraid something will pop out of place. Hand on the back of her neck, he shoves her down on her knees and bends her over the edge of the tub. Water pours from the faucet with a flick of his meaty wrist, and it’s only a minute or two until the basin is halfway full._

Stop, _Rey wants to say._

What are you doing? _she wants to ask._

Please don’t do this, _she wants to beg._

_She can’t speak._

_“Creepy kid,” he’s muttering, his grip on the back of her neck forcing her head down. “Creepy fucking kid. Nobody will care, nobody will even notice…”_

_The water rises and rises and rises until it touches the ends of her hair. Rey’s heart is in her throat, her palms braced against the outside of the tub. The tiles dig into her knees, and they hurt so bad, so bad, so bad -_

_“Shut up!” he roars, and Rey realizes she’s been whimpering. Flinching, she clamps her mouth shut and tries to tune out his deranged ranting._

_The water touches her forehead. Rising. Rising. Rising._

What did I ever do to you? _she thinks._ What did I ever do but exist?

_But that’s the crime, isn’t it? That’s always been Rey’s crime._

_She exists._

_The water shivers up around her nose, and in seconds it’s submerged. Faintly, distantly, like she’s somewhere else, watching from above, she can hear herself gasping. She tells herself to take big gulps of air because she’s going to need it in a minute, she’s going to need all the oxygen she can manage very soon, she’s going to -_

_A grunt. “Worthless bitch.”_

_And then Rey’s underwater._

_No sound._

_No light._

_No air._

_She heaves and thrashes and bangs her arms and legs and knees against the sides of the tub, fingers hooked into claws, searching for flesh, for eyes, for a weakness, any weakness. They find empty space, and she continues to convulse, knowing she can’t hold on, knowing that humans weren’t made for this, and yet here she is, here she is -_

_Bubbles explode from her nose, and Rey opens her mouth._

_Swallowing._

_Swallowing._

_Swallowing._

There is no end to this pain, _she thinks, even as her thoughts scatter and whirl and divide, even as her mind fragments into tiny, irretrievable pieces, even as her heart races far past its limits, even as -_

Worthless.

No one will care.

No one will notice.

_Thrashing._

_Surging._

I am drowning, _Rey thinks mildly._ I am drowning.

_Darkness._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world returned with a jolt.

Rey’s ears rang with a high-pitched whine, and it was only as she catapulted out of sleep that she realized the sound was coming from _her_ , the sound was _screaming_ , the sound was _ripping her throat apart_ , the sound was -

She shot straight up in bed, chest on fire, eyes searching blindly, and then there was a loud bang as her bedroom door flew open, and a dark figure filled her doorway, and she wasn’t screaming anymore but panting and shivering and gasping for air, gasping for air, _gasping for air_ \- 

“ _Rey!_ ”

Ben’s hands on her arms and neck and waist. Fingers on her pulse and chest and cheek and arms all at once, somehow, and he was saying something she couldn’t hear, saying something in a different language, he had to be, because nothing was making sense, nothing was real, nothing mattered -

“Oh, Rey, hey baby, it’s okay -”

She heard the tremble in his voice, even above the roaring of her thoughts, and this was the thing that calmed her down. Brought her back to earth, to sanity. 

She struggled for a long minute, concentrating on her breathing. Ben’s arms were around her now, cradling her to his chest, which was thankfully clothed - there was really only so much fanfare she could take at this point - and when she finally, fully, came back to herself, Rey realized he was in bed with her, under the covers, and they were rocking. 

The motion was soothing, and in moments her mind had pieced itself back together. Memories of the dreams, of the nightmares, threatened to bombard her, but Rey forced them to the side, compartmentalized all the Bad Things until the only thing left to grab hold of was Ben.

“Oh, Ben,” she said weakly, and then started to cry. 

He made a rough sound in the back of his throat, a pained, animal sound, and he continued to rock them, the bed shifting. At some point she asked for the time, and when he told her it was three, her tears subsided. For a moment.

“You n-need to go to sleep,” she stammered, even as she pressed her tear-soaked face into his chest. The material of his tee-shirt was wet and wrinkled, but she was too upset to feel guilty. “You h-have to work soon, Ben.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers traced circular patterns on the bare skin of her arms. This, too, soothed her, and in a moment her worries were gone, or at least temporarily banished. She nestled into Ben’s body, curling herself into his chest, nudging her head under his chin. He was warm and safe and bright, the opposite of the memories that probed at the edges of her consciousness. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured finally, and then, “I mean, obviously not, in the general sense, but for now?”

Despite everything, Rey laughed because - _Ben_. “Yes, it’s...over.”

“That’s right,” he assured her quietly, burying his nose in her hair. “Whatever happened...can’t hurt you here.”

 _Are you sure?_ The little girl inside her, the one who had suffered through these miseries, wanted to demand an answer, one that left no room for doubt. But adult Rey, the one who had escaped the nightmare, knew better. He was as sure as he could be. 

“I hate them,” she said simply. 

Ben didn’t ask if she meant the nightmares themselves, the people responsible, or something else entirely. He merely nodded and held her close, which was exactly what Rey needed. He always seemed to know just what to do. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Absolutely not.”

“If you do,” he went on, undeterred, “you know…”

“You’ll listen,” she finished, and this almost went without saying. Of course he would listen. This was _Ben_. 

He hummed assent in the back of his throat. Rey twitched a little when a vivid flash from the nightmare ignited inside her head - _drowningsuffocatingdarkness_ \- and her breath hitched. Fear fluttered in her stomach, gnawing at her organs like some sort of flesh-eating bacteria. Chipping away at her sanity. Consuming, devouring, relentless. 

“Concentrate on me,” Ben said, and he started to inhale and exhale loudly, steadily, in such a way that his breaths were the only thing she could hear. 

Focusing as hard as she could, ignoring the parts of her that would try to tear her apart, Rey listened closely to the cadence of his breathing, syncing up her own until their hearts beat as one. Like a soft symphony of air. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

“Thank you,” she sighed, after some minutes had passed. She snaked her arms around his chest and pulled him close. 

_Imagine if you were at your apartment,_ she thought with a shudder. _Imagine if, all this time, you were by yourself, dealing with the stress and uncertainty and fear. Imagine the outcome._

But of course Rey didn’t _have_ to imagine. That was her reality.

Until the quarantine. Until Ben.

“You’re safe now,” he reminded her, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

Rey closed her eyes and flushed with heat. “Yes.”

“Nothing bad will happen here.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” he continued with a kiss on her cheek, and her jaw, and the corner of her mouth.

“Yes,” she repeated breathlessly, eyes closed, listening to his words and his breathing and the truth behind them both.

The tears had stopped for good, but Rey knew they were always close to spilling over again - especially when she managed to open her mouth and tell him this next part.

“I’m so tired of it, Ben,” she whispered, hating herself for this weakness. Maybe if she could handle it on her own, neither of them would suffer as much as they were. Maybe, if she could just _deal with it_ , things would be better.

Ben kissed the corner of her mouth again, lingering. “I know, honey, I know it’s hard.”

Blushing at the endearment, so carelessly given, Rey ducked and pushed her head into his neck again, but this didn’t deter him. He glided his lips over her forehead with almost no pressure at all. A ghost kiss.

“Please don’t ever think you’re alone,” he murmured, his tone low and deep. She could feel the vibration against her own chest. “When things get bad like this at night, I want you to find me. Don’t think about it. Just come find me. Can you do that?”

Rey didn’t answer - couldn’t, really - so Ben gently but firmly pushed her away a little. Just enough so they could look into each other’s eyes. The contact was unexpected, but Rey had always been a bit mesmerized by the depths of his eyes, so she didn’t resist. 

“I know we’ve spoken of this before, but it bears repeating. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t talk to me, Rey,” he said seriously, and his eyes were nearly pitch-black now. She couldn’t read him at all. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“You can’t know that,” she murmured, regretting the words even as they left her mouth. Must she always be so combative? Ben was only trying to _help_ ; why couldn’t she just accept it? Why did she have such a difficult time agreeing? 

“Oh,” he said with a small, tight laugh, “but I do know it, Rey. I do.”

His wording was intentionally vague, which confused her, and she sensed he meant something much more than what he was actually saying, but rather than confront him about it - she really wasn’t in the frame of mind for games - Rey touched the tip of her finger to his jaw.

“I promise I’ll come to you if...things get bad,” she said haltingly. 

He nodded, pacified by the promise. Neither of them used that word lightly. He caught her finger and pressed his hand over hers against his cheek. Rey smiled slightly and drank in his face - every involuntary twitch, every subtle expression, every flicker of his eyes. She didn’t want to miss a thing.

“I also want you to consider this,” he hedged, a small furrow appearing between his eyebrows, like he was nervous. “You don’t have to make any promises this time, but it might be...beneficial...to seek counseling.”

She tensed immediately, and Ben did the same. 

“You don’t have to do anything now, but I want you to keep it in mind.” He swallowed, and Rey’s eyes followed the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “Counseling or medication, maybe both. It will help.”

If she moved too quickly, Rey feared her bones might snap. She was wound up tight like a rubber band, so close to the breaking point she could almost taste it. Therapy? Pills? Were those really things she...needed? A small, broken part of her whispered yes. 

“I’ll…” She floundered, unwilling to make any promises, but knowing he wouldn’t relent until she acknowledged him in some way. “...think about it.”

Ben nodded quickly. “That’s all I ask. You know I hate seeing you suffer.”

“You and me both,” she muttered tiredly. Her body sagged against him, but she doubted sleep would return tonight. 

Ben yawned and sleepily kissed her nose.

“You should go back to bed,” she told him again, drained. He didn’t move. “Ben, you have to be up in, like, three hours.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I have far to go.”

Working from home did have its advantages, she had to admit. But still. Rey didn’t want him yawning and slipping off to sleep in the middle of his endless Zoom meetings. What kind of friend would that make her? 

“Go,” she murmured, but he resisted - which wasn’t hard. She was half his weight, and he usually took great pride in reminding her of that. More than once he’d tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“No,” Ben said finally, “no, I don’t think so.”

Then he gave her a speculative look, and even in the dark Rey could see the gears turning in his head. He was puzzling over something. She wasn’t sure if this was a good omen or not.

“What are you thinking?” she demanded, rubbing the back of her hand across her face. At least she hadn’t drooled all over, or worse - dripped snot on his neck. She shuddered even thinking about it. How humiliating. 

“Come with me,” he said, and without waiting for an answer scooped her up in his arms. He staggered from the bed and made his way out of the guest room, maneuvering in the dark with bumbling but confident steps. 

“As if I have a choice!” she gasped, clutching him around the neck.

He huffed a laugh and deposited her gently on his bed. His massive, king-sized bed. With a scarily high thread count and at least a dozen pillows. She wasn’t jealous though. Absolutely not.

Rey buried her face in his mountain of pillows and yanked the comforter over her body, wrapping herself up like a burrito. Who was she kidding - she was _so_ freaking jealous. 

Ben eased into bed next to her, and even in the dark she could hear the grin in his voice. “Huh. I thought this would require much more persuading.”

She grunted. “I love your bed.”

“Well, I’m glad, considering this is where you’ll be for the next week.”

The instant Ben had dumped her into his bed, exhaustion had descended over her in a wave, but at his pronouncement, she was suddenly wide awake again. The sudden shifting between consciousness and unconsciousness - and back again - was incredibly disorienting.

“What do you mean?” Rey asked carefully, clutching the blanket beneath her chin.

“I mean,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically nervous, “that I believe we’ll both feel better if you’re not alone at night. Is that true?”

She didn’t have to think too hard. “Well, yeah.”

“So we’ll share my bed. If you’re…” Ben cleared his throat. “...comfortable with that?”

Rey was nodding before he even finished speaking. _No more games_ , she reminded herself firmly. “Of course I am. Your bed is literally my favorite place, as I’ve probably told you a hundred times by now, and….you know that, um, you make me feel safe, Ben.”

The admission was hard, but as soon as the words left her mouth, a weight she hadn’t known was there left her chest. 

“I do know that,” he said softly, and pulled her close. She went willingly, cuddling against his chest as he wrapped himself around her small body. 

“So,” she said after a quiet minute passed, “should I...move my things in here? If we’re going to sleep like this from now on.” Her mind instantly went to her food stockpile and how she would manage to move it from the guest room to Ben’s. In the morning she’d have to search for a small space where she could hide her tuna and all the rest. 

Then her mind turned to all the implications involved with officially moving in. Sharing a bed. Sleeping together, night after night. Holding him close. Kissing him like this. Kissing him. _Kissing._

“That’s…” His voice was rough, and he had to start over. “That’s up to you, Rey. You’re only across the hall, but if it makes things easier…”

Rey hummed in the back of her throat and pressed her face to his shoulder. “Maybe just some clothes.”

“Whatever you want,” he said quietly, cupping the back of her neck. The heat of his hand made her eyelids droop heavily. 

A long minute passed, and Rey dipped in and out of consciousness. Ben’s body was so warm, his grip firm enough to keep her grounded with him, and the steady cadence of his breathing helped to guide her down into sleep. 

But she was brought back by the soft pressure of Ben’s lips on her chin.

Rey moaned happily, and his lips dropped to a sensitive spot on her neck. Her body curled against his, and she slipped her knee between his legs without pausing to consider the consequences. Everything in her yearned to touch every part of him, but with the night’s horrific events still fresh, exhaustion weighed heavily on her mind. She struggled between the two desires for several seconds. 

Ben mumbled incoherently into her neck, lips bumping along her skin. 

“I like when you kiss me,” she sighed, and then promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **REY YOU SLEEPY LITTLE TEASE**
> 
> **anyway....COMMENCE TURNING POINT! as i said in the beginning notes, we're now halfway through this fic (8/16) which means things will start to improve, in all manner of plot. Rey's having some Realizations [cue gasps] and cluing in for once**
> 
> say hi!!  
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	9. My Love For You Is A Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey accidentally makes Ben jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **your friendly resident reylo trashbag is back weeewoooo thanks for the kudos and comments, everyone <3**
> 
> **this update further emphasizes the turning point that started last chapter, and it's also on the longer side--all for you, my fellow reylo fiends**
> 
> **check the end notes for a personal updateee**

** DAY SEVEN---part II **

Rey dumped half a box of Frosted Flakes in her cereal bowl while staring at Ben.

Normally she avoided thinking about her episodes in their many forms - panic attacks, nightmares, and various stress-induced self-destructive behaviors. She also knew it was important to acknowledge that just because she’d never seen an officially licensed therapist did not mean she hadn’t conducted her own research regarding these...issues.

But since last night’s horrors inconveniently intertwined with last night’s newest Ben revelation, Rey concluded it was _perfectly_ okay to run through, uh, specific points again and again...and again.

In her mind, she recalled the pressure of Ben’s lips on her neck, the deep vibration in his chest when he spoke, the worry in his voice, and the way his arms folded over her body like wings. She had pressed herself into him, involuntarily seeking comfort. The outside world was dark and loud and hurtful, it had always been this way for her, and he was warm and welcoming and kind, so to reach for him in her time of need was like instinct. 

It also helped knowing that Ben had never, _ever_ pushed her away. 

Eyes on him, Rey paid close attention to the snugness of his white tee-shirt and the way it hugged his chest. Every little ridge and muscle was sharply defined against the soft cotton, and she forced her gaze away before she started salivating. His gray sweatpants also provided no relief, she noted out of the corner of her eye. 

She couldn’t help raking her eyes over his tousled hair and sleep-heavy eyes. The spoon he gripped was almost comically tiny in his massive hand, and she remained transfixed by the muscles that flexed in his bicep as he brought the spoon to his mouth. 

She wanted that mouth on her. 

Rey startled, dropping the cereal box on the counter, and a large clump of Frosted Flakes fell in a sugary waterfall to the floor. She hastily shoved the remaining flakes away from the edge of the granite, face burning as she caught Ben’s eyes.

“Um,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

Ben smiled lazily, gesturing at her with his spoon. “Someone’s a little clumsy this morning, hm?”

“Someone’s just very, very tired,” she shot back, sinking to her knees to quickly clean up the spilled cereal. Or very, very distracted, she amended silently. 

“By the time you sit down -” he started.

“No, look, I’m done!” Rey threw the wasted cereal away with a mournful glance, then righted the cereal box and swept the rest of the flakes into her bowl. “I trust your counters are clean.”

“You trust correctly.”

“Uh-huh. That doesn’t even make sense.” Rey dumped a spoon in her bowl and plopped down in the seat next to Ben. The kitchen table had many dairy options: almond milk, 2%, fat-free, oatmilk, and even coconut milk. Rey seriously doubted the two of them combined could drink enough to empty the cartons before their expiration dates, but hey, it was Ben’s money. 

“It’s Saturday,” he reminded her, as if this meant anything.

“Okay…?” She grabbed the carton of fat-free. 

“Nothing has to make sense on Saturdays.”

Rey nodded around a particularly large mouthful. “ ‘as true.”

Neither of them had realized last night that Ben didn’t have to be up at the crack of dawn for work because it just so happened to be the weekend. Much to their mutual relief - quarantine had warped the passage of time. The two had cuddled all morning, only rising around ten to settle the rumbling in Rey’s stomach. 

“Here, you’ve got -” Ben reached over with a napkin and gently patted the corner of her mouth. “There.”

She smiled, and his lips curved in response. 

It was Saturday. A whole day to do whatever they wanted. No work schedule, no well-meaning but interfering friends, no stressful decisions. Saturday was, and always had been, a day for play. Rey intended to make the best of it.

“Plans?”

Ben tilted his head. “What haven’t we done yet?”

 _I can think of a few things._ Rey startled at this thought and valiantly held a massive blush at bay. 

“Maybe, uh…” She scratched her chin, acting like she hadn’t just been thinking some very inappropriate thoughts. “Monopoly?”

Ben made a face. “You really want to sit for ten hours?”

“Not really -”

“And surrender all your money and property to me, slowly but inevitably?” 

Rey narrowed her eyes. He smiled innocently and dunked his spoon into his cereal. 

“Someone who voluntarily eats Special K for breakfast should not have an opinion.”

Ben snorted and eyed her own bowl. “I could say the same for someone who still eats Frosted Flakes.”

“For your information -”

“Are you ten? Because your taste buds sure seem to -”

“How _dare_ you!” Laughing, Rey lunged and caught his wrist before the spoon could make it to his mouth. 

He pouted as the cereal fell back into the bowl. “That was going to be a really good mouthful.”

“Aw, poor baby.” Rey mimed wiping away tears.

Ben’s eyes went soft, and before she could register this change, he kissed the fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

She wrinkled her nose, pulse fluttering. “Sticky.” 

He laughed and pushed back his chair. Rey immediately released him, her hand tingling as she rested it on the tabletop. 

As Ben walked behind her on his way to the sink, he snuck a kiss to her temple. She made a small _eep_ and pretended to glare at him as he passed. Smiling into her bowl, she considered their radically altered behaviors.

Last night had been very taxing, but she was thankful for it too, if only because of the way they’d been treating each other since the moment they woke in his bed. Teasing and giggling and talking like they’d missed out on a hundred different conversations. Light touches and gentle looks and soft kisses - but never on the mouth - like they couldn’t get enough of each other. 

Something had changed last night, something drastic. They were way more open, more _free_ , with their affections, Rey especially. She found herself swaying towards him, perking up when she expected another kiss, teasing him until the tips of his ears blushed pink and his eyes grew soft. 

This wasn’t innocent. This was flirting.

Rey had never dated anyone, not in high school or beyond. As a teenager she was mousy and frankly forgettable in both personality _and_ looks. Her sole goal had been to get passable grades, and she’d succeeded. No college, of course, but her job at the diner often paid well; when you were someone who gobbled up shifts like your life depended on it, well… Maybe that was because it did. 

And yet, Rey was not a virgin. She had lost her v-card one random night about two years ago. It was a few days after her nineteenth birthday, and when an older college-aged guy had bought her a drink in celebration, she had thought, _Let’s just get it over with._

So she did. 

It had been an entirely forgettable experience. Since then, nothing. Ben knew about this one-night stand, but not that it had been the _only_ one. Nor did he know that was the night she lost her virginity. There were some things a girl couldn’t tell her best guy friend, and this was one of them. 

More than anything, Rey was glad to have gotten something so apparently monumental out of the way. Now, for future endeavors, she didn’t have to worry so much. She doubted there was any special relationship in her future. 

Well, aside from the one with Ben.

Lately, the thought of engaging in certain...to use Poe’s phrasing, _extracurricular activities_ …with Ben had gained more than a little appeal. Their relationship had always involved a certain amount of intimacy: hugging, cuddling, light kissing. But since the start of quarantine, Rey found herself wanting to touch more of Ben than was strictly appropriate. 

Shoveling cereal in her mouth, she watched Ben as he meticulously washed his dishes. It was no secret she struggled with relationships, but with Ben there had never been an awkward, getting-to-know-you stage. They’d clicked immediately, and every time they were together it was like that was where she was meant to be - with him. He was the only person who didn’t tire her out. He was the only person she genuinely cared for. 

And if there was one thing she’d learned about their relationship from this quarantine insanity - from his attentiveness during an episode to his willingness to listen to her concerns - it was this:

Rey kinda, sorta, maybe wanted to sleep with him.

 _Sleep_ sleep. Not the innocent act they were doing now. 

On the one hand, part of her said that, logically, and considering the parameters of their friendship, this was a really bad idea. But then, on the other hand, they were both adults, and maybe, just maybe, if looked at from a different perspective, she might interpret his constant and often intimate attentions as romantic interest. 

Maybe. Perhaps. 

It had occurred to Rey that she may be a little late to this party, but Ben's romantic interest was a concept that was entirely new to Rey. In fact, she was still coming to terms with the possibility that this was a reality which could _actually happen_. She was in the process - the very long process - of solving the equation that said her friendship with Ben plus his constant display of affection equaled desire for _her_. She could hardly wrap her mind around it. 

Rey was very good at running calculations, but this one was proving to be a doozy.

“What are you thinking?”

Rey blinked, coming abruptly out of her thoughts and hoping none of it showed on her face.

Ben pulled out a chair and sat down, propping his chin in one big fist. He settled his eyes on her, which immediately made her nervous considering the recent direction of her thoughts. If there was ever a moment to thank the heavens that Ben wasn’t a mind reader, it was now. 

“Hey,” he said, and poked her bare knee. Tingles shot up and down her leg at the place his skin met hers. “Wanna talk?”

Rey pursed her lips and shoved another heaping pile of Frosted Flakes in her mouth. 

“Ah,” Ben said, smirking a little. “Thank you for that telling answer.”

She gave him a thumbs up.

His good humor faded the longer he looked at her, which, again, made her horribly nervous. 

“So,” he said, and Rey’s focus sharpened to a point, like a knife’s tip - still and gleaming. She knew that tone - that tone said, _You will not like what I have to say next but I must say it anyway._

It was his _Let’s get down to business_ tone. 

“You don’t have to like what I’m about to say, but I want you to listen. Are you listening, Rey?”

She felt a brief but sharp flash of irritation. _Don’t treat me like a child,_ she nearly snapped. _No need to patronize me._ But that was just her defensiveness kicking in, and she held her breath for a minute to dial it back.

“I’m listening,” she said finally, playing with her spoon. 

Ben’s voice softened then. “I needed to check. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Any lingering remnants of aggression fled at his sincerity. Of course he only had her best interests at heart. Of _course._ She was a fool for thinking otherwise.

“Go on,” she said, and smiled to let him know they were okay.

Ben put his hand on the tabletop, palm-up, and it was a credit to their understanding of one another that Rey placed her hand in his without speaking. Their fingers twined together, and she allowed herself to relax. 

“Last night, I told you that counseling might be a good idea.”

Thankfully, Rey had assumed ahead of time this was where the conversation was leading, so she wasn’t taken aback. But nervous? Oh yes, she was _definitely_ still nervous.

“This is going to sound selfish.” He took a deep breath. “But it’s hard for me to see you like that. When you’re in the middle of an episode or experiencing flashbacks, I mean. Of course,” he went on hurriedly, as if anticipating she’d interrupt, “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. Based on everything I’ve seen, I know it’s so much worse for _you_ , Rey.”

Rey didn’t bother to confirm this because, really, it was clear enough already. 

Ben swallowed, and it was that more than anything that solidified just how nervous he was, too. Knowing they were both struggling, and doing so together, alleviated most of Rey’s stress. It didn’t evaporate entirely, but enough for her to finally meet his gaze head-on.

“I only brought this up last night, I know, but I’ve been thinking about how to handle this for a while. The very last thing I want to do is push you, Rey. But I also want to make sure you’re aware of your options.”

Now this, the person right here in front of her at the table, _this_ was Business Ben. 

Rey knew she should be a hundred percent focused on the conversation, but dammit - this side of him was _really_ hot. 

“Counseling,” she said, mouth dry for more than one reason now. “Therapy.”

Ben nodded cautiously and squeezed her hand. “Yes. There’s also the possibility of prescription medication.” At the look on her face, he added hastily, “But that comes a little later.”

He leaned forward. “Rey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - you won’t be forced into anything. But I have to tell you that I think all of this is...overdue.”

She gritted her teeth. Her emotions were all over the place, but more than anything, she knew that Ben was right. She needed help, and she’d needed it years ago. Quarantine was making her symptoms worse, but really, this could’ve happened at any time.

“I know,” she said, forcing the words out. “Everything you’re saying is absolutely right. It’s just…” She laughed a little and looked down at their hands. “It’s a lot.”

“It is,” he agreed, keeping his voice gentle, which she appreciated. “At the risk of scaring you, or potentially setting you off, I told myself it wasn’t my place to tell you what to do.”

“Ben,” she said, sensing she was interrupting him but not caring. “You know I value your opinion more than anything.” 

He licked his lips and huffed a laugh. “I actually didn’t know that. Is...that true?”

She slapped her forehead lightly. “Ugh, I should’ve made that clear. _Yes_ , it’s true. You’re literally the best person in my life, Ben. Besides,” she added, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, “I know you’re just looking out for me.” 

“It’s my new hobby,” he teased. “Making sure you’re okay.”

“Sounds boring,” Rey muttered, but she was smiling. 

Ben stood and collected her dirty dishes. “Trust me, it is anything but.” He grabbed the oatmilk and headed for the fridge. “Consider what I said. About the counseling.” 

Rey nodded, pushing it to the back of her mind. For now. She knew this intervention was long overdue.

It finally registered that Ben was cleaning up her things. “Hey, let me -”

He _tsk_ ed, already dumping her bowl in the sink. “I’ve got this. Go relax. Play some _Animal Crossing_.”

“I’ve already logged three-hundred hours,” she mumbled, eyeing his back speculatively. She would not be distracted. 

“What was that?” he called over his shoulder. Rey had a feeling he’d heard her perfectly. 

“Nothing,” she sighed, heaving herself out of the seat. “But just know I’ll be responsible for dinner dishes.”

“Are you -”

“No arguing!” she declared, pointing a finger at him. 

“I wasn’t,” he insisted, but his shoulders shook with repressed laughter. _What a liar._ “If you’d let me finish…”

Rey crossed her arms and waited, giving his back a flat look. 

“...You’d know I was only asking, _Are you in the mood for more Netflix?_ ” 

She grumbled. “No movies. Maybe a TV show. _The Office_ or something.” 

“Hmm. What about _Borderline_? Same mockumentary format, and it’s not a show we’ve seen _ten times_ already.”

She stuck out her tongue, and the curve of his lips told her he hadn’t missed it. “Fine, let’s give it a try.”

“Your lack of faith is disturbing,” he intoned, imitating a line from the space movies they'd watched. Then, in his normal voice, he added, “You mind setting the TV up? I’ll be there in a minute.”

Rey turned to go, but she paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Before her mind could inevitably convince her out of it, she quickly strode over to Ben, placed a hand on his shoulder, rose up on her toes, and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

She left the kitchen without another word, cheeks flaming.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey detoured to the guest room to throw on shorts and a flimsy "sweater" that barely deserved the name. These were undoubtedly comfort clothes, but - and she couldn’t ignore that this was a motive even if she tried - they were also incredibly flattering.

Soft and cozy and pastel pink in color, the fabric of both the shorts and sweater covered everything they were supposed to, but Rey had always felt pretty when wearing them. There was no discernible reason for that, yet, as she adjusted her three-bun style in the mirror and smoothed out any wrinkles, she couldn’t help but think she somehow looked... _better_. Like she actually had curves - _a woman's body_ \- for once. 

Satisfied with herself, Rey skipped down the stairs and into the living room. She could hear Ben finishing up in the kitchen (she’d always been a speed-dresser because life hadn’t given her any choice), so she grabbed her ancient laptop from the coffee table and settled herself on the sofa. Across the room was Ben’s Lego masterpiece, and the sight of the spaceship brought a smile to her lips. 

Selecting the Netflix app on the TV screen, she pulled up a browser window on her laptop and began scouring the web for news. Inevitably, she made her way to Twitter. So many updates about the virus. So much chaos. She grimaced. 

Absorbed by the news, Rey didn’t hear Ben until he sat down beside her and peered over her shoulder. They were quiet for a minute as she scrolled, slow enough so they both had time to read. 

“Hmm,” he said, which seemed mysterious. 

“ _Hmm_ indeed,” she countered, clicking the heart reaction on a post about newborn Rottweiler puppies. 

Not that she was complaining, but Ben was breathing on her neck, and because her self-control was practically nil, she shivered in response. He immediately noticed, of course, and frowned. 

“Cold?”

Even as she shook her head, he was grabbing a throw blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders like a cape, tucking the edges against her sides. Rey kept her focus on the laptop, but she was smiling, too. _Has he always been this attentive? Why haven’t I noticed?_

“Better?” Ben studied her critically, looking for something else to fix.

Rey rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ben, thank you.”

He bit his lip, and she briefly dropped her attention to his mouth. She’d always been jealous of anyone who got to taste those lips, and even though he pressed them to her face often enough, she’d never gotten to feel them on her own.

“Let’s start up _Borderline_ ,” he said huskily, reaching for the remote.

Rey’s eyes snapped back up, and the pink blush on the tips of his ears _definitely_ wasn’t her imagination. She warmed a little, mulling over his response, and wondered for the first time what kind of effect she might have on him outside of being just a “friend.” _Maybe,_ she thought with a small smirk, _I should explore that a little._

“Ben,” she said, tugging on his tee-shirt when he started to move away, “sit next to me.”

He nodded wordlessly and sank back into the cushions, eyes on the television. Clicking on the first episode for _Borderline_ , he carefully set aside the remote and peeked back over at her. 

Rey was normally very involved with their movie or TV-time, but somehow she had gotten roped into taking a ridiculous Buzzfeed quiz called, “What Fruit Are You?” The result did not in any way matter, and yet Rey could not move on with her day until she found the answer. 

“Are you taking -”

“Shh,” she said impatiently, selecting **yellow** in the category FAVORITE COLOR. “This is very important, Ben."

“I can see that,” he murmured, placing his chin lightly on her shoulder. This time Rey was more successful in withholding a shiver. 

Two minutes later and the result appeared on her laptop screen: PINEAPPLE. 

Rey pouted. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“You did pick yellow,” he reminded her, chuckling. “There aren’t many fruits with that color.” 

“Are you kidding?” she demanded, unwilling to admit the true reason for her disappointment: Pineapples were so _ugly_. “I could’ve gotten a lemon!” 

“Or a mango,” he contributed thoughtfully. “Oh, and there’s always a banana.” 

“See!” she said triumphantly, throwing up her hands. “Instead I get this hideous thing.” 

“Rey,” he said, obviously suppressing his amusement, “you know this means nothing.” 

“Of course it means nothing! This quiz is stupid and useless and a waste of time, which means that they should at least make the results appealing.” Grumbling, she shoved the laptop into Ben’s lap. “Your turn.” 

With a sigh, he started the quiz over and clicked through the slides, barely pausing long enough to read them. 

“I hope you’re taking this seriously.” 

“I wouldn’t dare do otherwise.” 

Rey scowled and shoved his shoulder, flushing a little when he laughed. The sound of his voice was starting to do some very...interesting things to her body. 

His result appeared on screen: APPLE. 

“Are you satisfied?” he asked flatly, swiveling the laptop screen so she could see. 

“Look how pretty it is,” she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at the green apple on-screen. “It’s literally a perfect apple.” 

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this,” he said under his breath, but he was smiling, too. 

“We’re not arguing, we’re simply having a conversation about the ugliness of some fruits,” Rey said primly, taking her laptop back. “You’re a pretty fruit, and I’m a grotesquely-shaped nightmare.” 

“ _A grotesquely-shaped nightmare?_ ” Ben covered his face with his hands and laughed for a long minute. “It’s a _pineapple!_ ” 

“Don’t remind me,” Rey grumbled, clicking to a new quiz. “Which Celebrity Is Your Perfect Soulmate?” sounded _much_ better than “What Fruit Are You?” 

“Do you want me to tell you that you’re a pretty fruit, too?” 

Rey glanced over at him suspiciously. “You know, that would be _fantastic,_ Ben. Instead of, I don’t know, mocking my unfortunate circumstances?” 

Ben pouted, mimicking her earlier expression, and gazed deeply into her eyes. “You are a very, very pretty fruit, Rey. The _prettiest_.” 

She ignored the fluttering in her stomach and smiled cheerfully up at him. “This is an acceptable compliment.” 

“I’m glad,” he returned, rolling his eyes. 

Rey switched her attention to the laptop and clicked on the first question. “We shall never speak of the Quiz-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named again, okay? Let’s focus on this one.” 

Ben shifted closer, then grumbled, “This isn’t ideal,” and pulled her into his lap. She squeaked, totally unprepared for this sudden move, and had to hold back another unladylike reaction when he positioned her between his thighs, hiking his knees up so he could brace his forearms on them. 

“Better,” he declared, and lowered his head to see the screen. “Perfect first date. Hmm. What are the options?” 

“We’re supposed to do this separately,” she informed him, swallowing hard. “Go get your laptop, lazy.” 

He snorted and ignored the insult. “It’s called sharing, Rey. We can take turns. Besides, my laptop’s all the way upstairs, and I’m too comfortable right now.” 

“Well, I selected that I’m looking for a _male_ celebrity,” she stressed, side-eyeing him, “and my answers are the only ones that count here, Ben, so don’t try to change my mind!” 

Ben pressed his mouth to the spot just under her ear and smiled so she could feel it against her skin. “I promise that no such thing will happen.” 

“Good,” she mumbled, and scanned the first-date options. “Dinner and a movie, an evening concert, a picnic in the park, a fireworks display, and a mini-golf tournament.” 

Although the quizzes were merely a fun way to pass the time, Rey considered her answer seriously. Trapped in the townhouse, with nothing to do but lay around all day and occasionally do something productive like wash the dishes or sweep the dirt by the backdoor, Rey had never before yearned so fiercely to go out in public. 

“Let’s go with…” She selected **picnic in the park.** “Seems relaxing.” 

Ben grunted. 

“Next question.” Rey squinted at the screen, perplexed. “Favorite color combination? What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Maybe for coordinating outfits?” 

“Or wedding favors,” she snorted. 

Ben was silent. 

The options were silver and gold, purple and silver, pink and orange, and red and green. 

Rey groaned. “What, like a Christmas wedding? Why would anyone pick red and _green_?” She pretended to gag. 

“A Christmas wedding could be nice,” he murmured. “Think of all the decorations. The snow, the general cheery atmosphere…” 

She lifted a shoulder, unimpressed. “I’ve never been a huge fan of the holiday season. Family and all that.” 

Her tone was light, almost but not quite carefree. It hurt. It would always hurt. 

Ben tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “No Christmas wedding, then.” 

“Yeah, hard pass.” She finally selected **silver and gold**. “Kind of boring, but it’s the least hideous combination, I guess.” 

Ben shifted behind her, thighs bumping her hips. “If you had to pick two colors for a wedding, which ones would they be?” 

Rey considered. “Maybe yellow and...hmm. How about a _honey_ yellow with white and peach? That sounds kind of nice. Like summer.” 

The next quiz question fit in nicely with this line of thinking, she was pleased to see. 

“Favorite season!” Rey immediately clicked **summer**. “No-brainer.” 

Ben hummed noncommittally, which she felt was his way of passively disagreeing. Frowning, she shifted around so she could see his face. “What, you don’t think that’s a good idea? To have a summer wedding?” 

“Oh,” he said, obviously surprised, “no, I think it’s a great idea. I was just imagining…” He cleared his throat. “...what that would look like.” 

“Oh.” Rey knew next to nothing about weddings, so she wouldn’t know where to begin, even in her imagination. “What’s your favorite season?” 

“Spring,” he told her quietly. “When the flowers bloom again.” 

She smiled, turning to face the screen again, but it quickly dropped away when she thought of Ben marrying some other woman in early spring, with the flowers just blooming in pinks and reds and yellows, leaves sprouting in a wave of green on the trees, fresh sunshine spilling from the sky. Her stomach somersaulted. 

“But,” he continued, unaware of her line of thinking, “I would prefer a summer wedding.” 

“Oh?” she said, hiding her relief. 

“Summer reminds me of happy things.” 

Rey bit her lip as his lips skimmed her ear. Inevitably her mind started flipping through imaginary wedding scenarios with Ben. For some reason, this fantasy wasn’t as far-fetched as she would’ve thought even two days ago. 

“Summer is when I met _you_ ,” he said casually, fingers tapping the tops of his knees. 

“That’s right,” she said softly, momentarily forgetting the quiz. “By that noodle vendor on 47th.” 

“You were wearing that pair of paint-splattered overalls,” he murmured, voice low. “And a big smile. I wanted to know you right away.” 

She laughed a little. “Oh god, I was _so_ embarrassed, do you remember? I didn’t know how to paint, so I barely knew what I was doing, and -” 

“- and you forgot to open the windows to vent the paint fumes, so you got dizzy and left the apartment to get some fresh air.” His tone was somehow both disapproving and amused. 

She covered her face with her hands. “Ugh, don’t remind me. And then I realized I was starving, so I headed up to the noodle vendor and ordered before I realized I didn’t have my wallet.” 

“And I was in front of you in line and paid for our meals,” he continued, chin on her shoulder again. His one hand slipped down and rested lightly on her stomach. “Then I asked if you were alone.” 

“And I said, _Of course,_ which made you frown, and then I tried to backpedal by saying, _That sounded dramatic,_ but you shook your head and told me that’s exactly what _you_ say whenever someone asks you that question.” Rey grinned at the memory. 

“And I wanted to sit and talk with you very badly, but I didn’t want to seem desperate or weird.” He snorted. “Which I did anyway.” 

“No, you didn’t!” Rey gaped up at him. “You asked me politely if I’d like to sit with you, and I said _of course_ again, which made you laugh.” Her cheeks warmed at the memory. Hearing him laugh for the first time. Seeing that smile, the lightening of his eyes into something soft and welcoming. 

Ben grunted. “We sat there for _hours_ , and I didn’t want you to leave, so I asked for your phone, and you gave it to me without question,” and here he growled a little,” which was _monumentally_ stupid -” 

She laughed and poked him in the ribs. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not as paranoid as _some_ people!” 

“And I programmed my number in your phone,” he continued, ignoring her, “and then you did the same in mine.” 

“You called me an _hour_ later,” she recalled, giggling. 

Ben laughed too. “And I asked if you needed any help with the painting -” 

“And I said _of course_ -” 

“And I told you that was good because I was already on my way.” 

Rey shook her head, still grinning. “Even though I hadn’t given you my address.” 

“Mm. I remembered you said something about a farmer’s market on the corner,” he said, tapping his fingers lightly on her stomach, “and I figured you hadn’t wandered too far from your apartment, so I started walking in the direction I’d last seen you.” 

Rey sighed. “And you brought me ice cream.” 

“And I brought you ice cream,” he confirmed. 

“The rest is history.” 

He kissed the side of her neck, lingering for a moment. Rey shivered, and his sharp inhale told her he noticed. 

“Rey…” he said huskily. She waited, not daring to breathe. “Let’s, uh, finish this quiz.” 

She blinked and refocused on the laptop screen. Oh. Right. 

The next question wasn’t really a question at all: Choose the most calming picture. Among the options were mountains, a beach, an undisturbed lake, and a field of sunflowers. 

“Obviously,” she muttered, selecting the last option. 

A few more clicks, some indecisiveness, and the results appeared after a brief loading screen. 

“Your celebrity soulmate is: TOM HARDY,” she read aloud, then squealed and kicked her feet excitedly. The laptop bobbled in her lap, and Ben reached around automatically to catch it as it slid off. 

“My dream come true!” she exclaimed, examining the picture of her supposed soulmate. Could the internet read her _mind_? “Here, look.” 

She quickly opened a new tab and typed in **Tom Hardy**. In the images section, thousands of very well-posed photos appeared. Tom in suits, Tom in workout gear, Tom bare-chested and smoking and smiling that funny Robert DeNiro grin. 

“Those _tattoos_ ,” she sighed, eyeing his sleeves dreamily. 

Ben had remained strangely quiet and un-opinionated throughout all of this, but as Rey continued to coo and exclaim over Tom’s pictures, he cleared his throat. 

“You like tattoos?” 

Rey blinked. For a second she’d forgotten Ben was sitting behind her. That rarely ever happened. Such was the power of Tom. “Maybe not on myself, but on someone like Tom? Uh, _yes_.” 

He grumbled something under his breath. 

“What?” She turned around to see his face. To her surprise, he was pouting. 

“I didn’t know that.” 

Rey laughed. “Well, you’ve never asked, I guess. But really, just look at him.” She gestured at the laptop screen like, _Can’t beat that, my friend._

“Oh, I see him.” Ben sounded annoyed, which was surprising. He was never irritated. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, wrinkling her brow. He looked unhappy, which in turn dampened any excitement she felt at seeing her favorite male actor. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, staring at the laptop. “I just didn’t know your celebrity crush would look...like him.” 

Rey rolled her eyes. “You have muscles too, Ben. Literally the only difference between you two is his tattoos. Oh, and his height - Tom's on the shorter side,” she confided in a whisper. 

Ben grunted. 

Unthinkingly, Rey added, “Of course, he has to work out a lot for his roles.” 

“And how do you know that?” Ben demanded, setting the laptop aside so he could turn her sideways between his legs. It was a little cramped, but Ben was so much bigger than her anyway; it wasn’t much of a squeeze. “Do you spend your free time watching videos of him working out?” 

Rey blanched - a dead giveaway. “Sometimes…” 

He scoffed and spoke through his teeth. “This is the kind of guy you want to marry?” 

“M- _marry_?” she stuttered, taken aback. “Ben, this doesn’t even mean _anything_. Besides, just because I like how he looks doesn’t mean he’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” 

“Oh, so he’s just a casual hookup, then.” For some reason, this didn’t make him any calmer. There was actual _anger_ etched in every line of his face. 

“Yeah,” she shot back, getting irritated too, “maybe he is.” 

Ben’s nostrils flared, but he was quiet. She sensed his eyes on her face, but she stared straight ahead, focused on the front door. 

“I don’t know why you’re acting like a jerk,” she said finally, confused and a little hurt. “This is just a stupid quiz. You’re the one who told me Buzzfeed is a waste of time.” 

“I know what I said,” he ground out, sounding angry but restrained. “If this is the kind of guy you’re into -” 

“ _What_ ,” she snapped, whirling fully around to glare up at him. “If this is the kind of guy I’m into _what_?” 

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, but something shifted in his features. Some of the anger drained away, replaced by an emotion that Rey couldn’t identify. 

“What would you let him do to you?” 

The scowl dropped from her face as confusion set in. “What?” 

“This man,” he said, and waved a hand lazily at the laptop, “Tom Hardy. What would you let him do to you?” 

Rey’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. She still wasn’t entirely sure _where_ this was coming from, but she understood what he meant. “I…” 

“Would you let him do this?” He brushed a finger across her cheek, featherlight. 

Rey didn’t say anything. 

“What about this?” Ben slid a hand into her hair and tightened his grip just slightly, enough for her head to tip back an inch. 

The tips of her fingers tingled, and her heart was already beating unsteadily. Her eyes was hyper-focused on his face. No calculations ran in her mind. No rapid analyzing. Just a quiet, pleased hum inside her head. 

“Would you let him touch you like this?” Carefully, oh so carefully, Ben placed his free hand on the hem on her shirt and slid his fingers beneath. His nails scraped lightly across the bare skin of her stomach. He left his hand there, resting. 

There was no longer any moisture in Rey’s mouth. Her entire body had gone still - her mind was silent. She looked into his eyes and saw a hunger so all-consuming it threatened to overpower him. She blinked twice. 

“Would you let _Tom Hardy_ touch you here?” he said in a hard voice very unlike his own. His hand slid sideways to her hip, and the tips of his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her shorts. He lingered there, stroking her bare hip, and her breathing deepened. 

Rey parted her lips, with some effort, to speak, but he shook his head. 

“What about here?” His voice was like gravel, like ground-up bits of glass had torn into his throat, deepening his voice to an impossibly low baritone. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to an exposed sliver of her shoulder. 

Rey gasped and put a hand on his chest. Bracing herself or pushing away - it didn’t matter. She sat there between his legs, heart lodged somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, and waited for whatever he would do next. 

His lips were soft and pliant, and he moved them across her bare skin, up along the curve of her neck. She was trembling, and even as she recognized it, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. His lips applied pressure on her skin, moved away, then returned to do it again. 

Extricating his hands from her hair and the waistband of her shorts, Ben lifted her into his lap, closing his legs beneath her. Straddling his hips, Rey stared up into his face. 

Somehow both of her hands were now splayed across his chest, but she knew for certain that she meant to brace herself, _not_ push away. Brace for whatever came next. Brace for whatever he wanted to do to her - and right now she would do anything he asked. _Anything._

“Would you let him kiss you here?” In his new, rough voice, Ben dragged his tongue along her jugular, stopping only when he reached a spot beneath her jaw he could kiss over and over again. Rey whined and jerked in his lap, making him grunt. 

“Stay still,” he demanded, his hands like iron manacles on her waist. 

“Ben,” she said breathlessly, fingers twisting the material of his shirt into fists. “ _Ben_.” But that was all she could manage. She didn’t know what else there was to say. _Ben_ was all she wanted. 

“What about here?” A kiss on her cheek. Then the other. Soft and light and sweet. 

She shook her head wordlessly. 

“Or maybe here?” He kissed the corners of her mouth. She could taste him, just a little. Like coffee and dark chocolate. 

She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. A sharp breath hissed through his clenched teeth. 

“Here?” 

His lips hovered in front of her own, his breathing soft but unsteady. Her eyes were at half-mast, glazed and drowsy. She’d been lulled into a state of complete and utter calm as his lips tracked kisses across her skin. Now, with held breath, she sat perfectly still as he pressed his lips down on hers with pressure that was barely there. 

Rey’s entire world came to a standstill in that one infinite, endless moment. 

But then Ben’s lips parted from hers, and he moved back just enough to see her eyes. Whatever was in them seemed to satisfy him because his mouth crashed down on hers with such force she had to hold tightly to his shoulders to keep from falling backward. He licked her lips with his tongue and groaned into her mouth. 

Rey clung to him, pressing her chest to his, tasting him and wanting him and _needing_ him. Oh, how she _needed_ Ben. Her breasts pillowed between them, her nipples sensitive and aching. 

He nudged open her mouth and lapped lazily at her tongue, prompting her to suck him in deeper. Fingers flexing on her hips, Ben fused their mouths together and set to devouring her. His erection pressed tightly between her legs, and Rey whimpered at the feel of it. 

After several long minutes of quiet kissing, interspersed by his moans and her gasps, Ben drew back with obvious effort. His eyes were nearly black, face flushed, lips swollen to match her own. 

“Oh,” she said, unable to catch her breath. 

His large hands slid from her hips, up her back, and down again. He swallowed audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing, and examined her expression like his life depended on her response. 

“I want to kiss you all day every day,” he said finally, in a voice hoarse enough to sound painful. 

Rey just nodded. 

“I want to kiss you when you’re sleepy and when you’re upset. I want to kiss you in the morning and late at night.” Ben’s face twisted, as if anguished. “I want to… _God_ , Rey.” 

“I want to kiss you too,” she whispered, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Last night I said...I said that I like when you kiss me.” 

“I remember,” he murmured, eyes on her lips. 

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I _do_ like it when you kiss me. I _love_ it.” 

Ben licked his lips. “Do you...want me to kiss you again?” 

She nodded so enthusiastically her neck ached a little. “Yes, please.” 

The words were barely out of her mouth before his lips were back on hers, arms constricting around her body like they meant to keep her there forever. 

Well, maybe not _forever_ , but certainly for the rest of the day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **that wedding convo tho**
> 
> **we stan kissy ben**
> 
> **personal update: the world is a crazy place right now, and it's particularly stressful in america for obvious reasons so I anticipate that my updates will slow. of course, my _intention_ is to continue to post once a week, but with all of the above going on, I'm not going to make any promises. so don't be surprised if my updates are more spread out! I hope you all understand, and just know this fic means a lot to me and I'm trying my best!! <3**
> 
> **also unrelated but very important: I'm very much a tom hardy stan can you tell lolol <3 BANE <3**
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	10. Do Or Do Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> e m o t i o n a l  
> r o l l e r c o a s t e r

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **here, have a super long chap as a treat 😉**
> 
> **thank you soooo much to all those who have read & commented up to this point! and also for the support re: last chap's personal update, I really appreciate it so much 💗**

** DAY EIGHT **

The next morning, Rey awoke thinking of one thing and one thing only: Ben’s dick.

Now, there were several reasons for this line of thought. Firstly, she often dedicated quite a bit of time wondering what his dick looked like. Well, maybe _often_ was stretching it, but she had definitely committed more of her free time to fanciful imaginings since moving in. 

The second reason was the feeling said dick elicited in her as it pushed and pulsed between her thighs the day before. As Rey sat in his lap, his dick had seemed to grow bigger and thicker. Impossible, of course, since it was already _massive_ (she assumed), and yet she would swear that it continued to expand. 

The third and final reason for this dick-obsessing was, Rey felt, quite relevant as it was currently pressing into her backside. 

It was early morning - well, at least according to _her_ less-than-stellar standards. The bedside clock said seven, but since the two of them had tumbled into bed after yet another long and exhausting - and _exhilarating_ \- makeout session sometime around midnight, that meant Rey had only gotten roughly seven hours of sleep. Her poor soul needed at _least_ nine. 

But maybe, just maybe, the current circumstances would prove an exception to the rule.

Rey was on her side in Ben’s bed, blanket pulled to her chin, hands nestled under one of his numerous pillows (really, the man had a whole _fleet_ of them). Ben himself was wrapped around her from behind, the big spoon to her little. An arm was tossed over her middle, hand dangling by her stomach, and his face was pressed into her hair.

She shifted under his weight, suppressing a smile when his hold instinctively tightened as she faced him. Curling up into his chest, Rey nudged her head under his chin and placed her ear over his heart. The slow and steady beat lulled her back to a state of semi-unconsciousness for the next...however long…and only when Ben’s arms folded around her did she come fully awake. 

Bright, sporadic flashes illuminated the bedroom through the blinds, and a distant boom of thunder followed several seconds later. Rey stretched her limbs, listening to the sound of rain pattering on the windowsill. There’s always been something about thunderstorms that made her feel peaceful. The rain and the thunder and the darkness of the sky comforted Rey in ways she couldn’t put into words. Maybe it was because the storms were often a reflection for how she felt on the inside: scared and dark and tumultuous. She recognized herself in them.

Ben grumbled incoherently, nose scrunching, and she tilted her head back on the pillow to look at him. Rarely did she ever have time to examine him so closely. Not just because he was so much bigger than her, and therefore out of her reach, but because he was usually staring at her first, which made her either highly flustered or nervously uncomfortable. 

Now, inches away and yet totally unseen, Rey watched Ben. She looked at his lips, the way they twitched like he was trying to say something to a dream-ghost. They were red and lush and, in her limited experience, delicious. She looked at his nose, straight and large and kissable. She looked at his eyes as his long, black lashes fluttered, lids quivering. She looked at his thick eyebrows and the faint shadow of dark stubble on his jaw. She looked at his cheekbones and his hidden dimples. 

The longer she watched, the more convinced she became that here in front of her was the living embodiment of perfection. 

Rey bit her lip to keep from sighing and instead scooted closer. She trailed a soft finger along his jawline, pushing gently at his lips, and traced her way up to his hairline. Such thick, luscious hair. Hair that really had no right being on a man. Hair that was jet black and soft like pillow feathers, hair that made Rey want to burrow and hide from the world. She ran her fingers through a few tousled strands, her throat tight. 

She inched even nearer until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. This close, she could almost taste him. Which made her think of last night and how safe he made her feel. Which in turn made her think of how desperately they’d melded together, arms and legs and mouths and tongues. Like they each couldn’t get enough. Like the whole world depended on their joining. 

Rey closed the gap and pressed her lips to Ben’s. He still tasted so sweet, like dark chocolate, but in another sense he tasted like something entirely new, something she’d never experienced. This, she understood, was all Ben. His essence. 

Ben’s arms tightened instantly, enfolding her in an embrace that was both comforting and way too hot. His lips moved against hers, sweetly, tenderly, mouth roving, questing, exploring her own. She inhaled a sharp breath and wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning as his tongue delved deep into her mouth. 

Rain pattered outside, and they kissed, quiet but passionate. Lightning flashed, and they held each other close. Thunder shook the house, and they fell into a space outside of time, a space with just the two of them. A space where nothing else mattered.

Eventually, Ben slid his mouth from hers with a gasp and trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. She whimpered and clutched the back of his head, molding her soft body to his hard one. They were a study of complete opposites: one large and dark and hard, the other small and light and soft. Yet they complimented each other so well, in every way that mattered - and even in some that didn’t. 

Fingers entangled in his thick hair, Rey closed her eyes and let him kiss every inch of exposed skin. Throat and jaw and ears and nose and eyes. She could feel his heart pounding through his chest. His excitement was intoxicating; with him in her arms, mouth on her body, she knew she was invincible. 

Ben murmured into her neck, something soft and low and sweet.

“Mm,” she said, dazed. “What?”

He kissed her again. “Ah. Never mind.” And another kiss. And another.

But now Rey was curious. She tightened her grip in his hair and waited until he stopped moving. His eyes gazed sleepily back at her. 

“No, tell me,” she insisted. “I didn’t hear you, silly.” 

He looked suddenly flustered. “It’s not important.”

“Ben…” She gave him a look that clearly said, _Don’t mess with me_. But he merely shook his head. 

“Later.” His lips moved down her throat, and her curiosity dissolved almost immediately. He pressed his tongue to the hollow of her throat, and a soft sound came from deep in Rey’s chest. 

“Do that again,” she said breathlessly.

He obliged. 

Rey only realized she was gasping when his hands wandered to the hem of her PJ top. Gently, his fingers probed beneath her shirt and settled on her bare skin. She shivered violently and froze. Ben’s hands instantly disappeared, and she closed her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gently touching her jaw. “Rey.”

Internally, she was trying to avoid yet another riveting episode of The Freak-Out Hour. She was concentrating heavily, determined to move away from her panic. Ben was so warm and bright and special to her; she didn’t want to ruin this. Well, whatever _this_ was, which was yet another thing she had to figure out. 

Everything was fine. They were two best friends who enjoyed making out on occasion. No big deal. Real adults did this all the time. It was normal to be best friends who liked to kiss and sleep together. Besties with benefits. 

Rey snorted. She felt Ben relax next to her.

“Oh, so should I take this to mean you’re not thinking as hard as I think you are?”

She opened one eye. “Can you reword that? My brain doesn’t work this early in the morning, sorry. Come back in an hour or two.” 

Rolling on her side, Rey smiled into the covers and wondered at the up-and-down of her emotions. It was unusual for her to spring back from the edge so easily. 

Ben grabbed her hip and yanked her flat on the mattress. She peered up at him, blinking owlishly. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He leaned down slowly, giving her time to move away, and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She shrugged, staring up at him. Bedhead Ben was absolutely fucking _adorable_ , and it was almost a crime it had taken her this long to notice. He squinted his sleepy eyes, and her heart melted.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he murmured, carefully watching her face. “What are you feeling?”

She rolled her lips and looked up at the ceiling, considering the merits of answering honestly. “Happy, but...confused.” 

He inhaled sharply. “Okay. Why happy?”

“I like sleeping with you,” she said softly, cheeks pinking. “And kissing you. And I like being hugged.”

Ben’s face softened, eyes drinking her in, and he cupped her cheek like he was taking great pains to treat her gently. Like she was precious. She tilted her chin to capture his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. 

“I love all of those things too,” he said huskily, mouth on her cheek. “I like to feel you against me in the middle of the night. I know you’re safe.”

She smiled and touched a loose strand of hair on his forehead. 

“Why confused?” he persisted. 

Her smile dimmed, and she focused instead on his mouth rather than his eyes. “I… About us. I’m confused about us.”

He stayed quiet, letting her think.

“I’m…” She growled, irritated with her stammering. “What does _this_ mean?” Gesturing between the two of them.

“What do you think it means?” 

Rey scowled reflexively. “Oh, now you sound like a _real_ therapist.” 

He murmured her name, and she knew there was no way he would allow himself to be distracted. Part of her didn’t _want_ to ignore these hard conversations anymore. It was so tiring for her to avoid them all the time. 

“Fine,” she sighed, shifting beneath him. Her hands played with the collar of his shirt. “I’m not sure what to think about all this...kissing. I mean, are we still friends?” Tears filled her eyes unexpectedly. This was her biggest fear, that whatever happened last night - and possibly in the future - would ruin their friendship. 

“Of _course_ we’re still friends, Rey,” he exclaimed, shocked. “Christ. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to. I’m in this for good.”

Something about the words triggered a flood of warmth. “For good?”

“Yes.” He licked his lips. “I’m here for as long as you want me. As a friend or…”

She met his eyes. “Or something more?”

He nodded, searching her face for signs of panic. “We don’t have to decide now. We can just let things proceed...organically.”

“Is that right?” A smile pulled at the edges of her lips. Her tears were gone, thank god.

“Be quiet,” he muttered, sliding his lips over hers. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Rey ducked her head and pushed into his chest. Ben allowed it, which told her the conversation was mostly over. 

“I just, ah…” For once, Ben’s confidence wavered. He cleared his throat. “I want to be near you, Rey. All the time. It...means a lot to me. That you’re here.” 

“You basically kidnapped everything in my apartment, so…”

His chest shook with laughter, and she pressed her face over his heart. The sound was literal music to her ears. Hearing Ben laugh was like winning the lottery and taking a bite of all her favorite foods at once. 

“Yeah, yeah.” A pause. “I’m glad I know you, Rey. I’m glad you’re in my life.”

Uh-oh. The tears were back, this time for an entirely different reason. She slid her hands up his neck and cradled his head. Seeing her tears, his eyes widened in distress. 

“I’m glad you're in my life, too,” Rey whispered. “You make me so happy, Ben.”

She kissed him, pouring all of her emotions into it. 

Ben moaned and sat up abruptly, pulling her into his lap. Keeping their lips locked together, he cupped the back of her head and adjusted the angle, kissing her deeply. She gasped into his mouth and squirmed in his lap, which made him hug her almost painfully tight to his chest. 

“ _Christ_ , Rey,” he groaned, burying his head in her neck. “We need to stop now or...I won’t let you leave this room today.” 

Stunned, she could only nod, the tingling in her lips signaling just how long they’d been at this. Time seemed immaterial whenever it was just the two of them. 

“I tend to lose my mind when I’m around you,” he added, laughing breathlessly. “We need to be careful.”

“We do?” She didn’t fully understand what that implied.

Ben swallowed and stood up with her cradled in his arms. “Let’s not get into that now.”

She didn’t mention his raging hard-on, but they both knew it was there. Blushing, Rey nodded and let him carry her into the master bathroom. He stopped in front of the mirror, and they stared at their reflection. 

Her hair was tousled, eyes still heavy with sleep, and she wore only a pair of pink pajama pants and a Death Cab For Cutie band shirt that was a little too big. Ben was dressed in black bottoms and a matching black shirt, and his hair was tousled too, but in a much more attractive way. Everything about him was _unfairly_ attractive. 

It was only as she looked at them together like this that she realized just how _small_ she was in comparison. He truly dwarfed her, from his height and thick biceps to the width of his broad shoulders. Staring at him, Rey couldn’t help the flood of saliva that filled her mouth. 

_Oh god,_ she thought desperately. _I want to bite his biceps. I_ need _to bite them._

Ben cleared his throat and tore his gaze from the mirror. Setting her on her feet, he dropped his hands to her waist. 

“I’ll, uh, leave you to get ready.” 

She nodded quickly. “Okay.”

But he lingered, fingers flexing on her waist. Finally, before things could actually get awkward, Ben dipped down to kiss her, lips soft and gentle, before pulling away

“Don’t be long,” he said in a low voice, hand fiddling with the doorknob. “Please.” 

Confused by his behavior, Rey merely nodded again and stood staring at the door after he shut it. Were they in a rush? Why did he seem so... _anxious_? Wasn’t that her thing? 

Shaking her head, Rey quickly brushed a comb through her hair and cleaned her teeth. She splashed water on her face, trying to wash away the sleepiness. Fresh-faced, she scurried from the bathroom, releasing a relieved sigh when she realized Ben was down in the kitchen, and into the guest room. 

Choosing a pair of white cotton shorts and a pink shirt, she dressed and then eyed her suitcases speculatively. Hadn’t Ben told her to move her things into his room? It didn’t make sense to scramble back and forth between the two. It was a _guest_ room, after all, and Ben had emphasized more than once already that she was _not_ a guest. 

Besides, she had to move her food stockpile sooner rather than later. With Ben downstairs, now was as good a time as any. 

Hauling her suitcases down the hall was simple enough. She only had the two, and then there were four bags filled with random little necessities, like toiletries and an extra pair of sneakers. There was more than enough space in Ben’s bedroom for her belongings.

She’d already been upstairs for twenty minutes, so she knew she didn’t have much longer until Ben wandered back up to check on her. Quickly, she gathered up her stockpile using some plastic bags found under the bathroom sink and transported them to their new home in Ben’s bedroom. A cubbyhole in the rear of his closet was relatively empty, so after some minor reshuffling, she managed to organize her stockpile to her strict specifications. 

Satisfied, Rey turned the closet light off, shut the door, and eyed her suitcases critically. They weren’t in the way - at least, she didn’t think so - but she could always rearrange them if Ben had a problem. The last thing she wanted was to be in the way.

She smoothed down the comforter on her side of the bed, pausing as the thought passed through her mind. Did she even have a side of the bed? This wasn’t her bed, or her room, or her _house_. So on second thought, maybe not. 

Rey turned for the doorway and slammed into a warm wall. She gasped, and Ben caught her around the waist. 

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed, putting a hand to her forehead. “ _Ben_ , you scared me!” 

“Oh, oops,” he said guiltily, eyes wide, and folded her into his arms, hugging tight. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Sorry, sweetheart.”

At the endearment, everything inside her melted, and forgiveness was instant. “Well, I _guess_ that’s fine.” 

He lifted her easily, and her legs went around his waist, hands clasping the back of his neck. Teasingly, he tilted his head and pouted. “Forgive me?” 

Her smile was shy. “Of course, Ben.”

A searing kiss, and then he turned them towards the stairs. But then he paused, as if remembering something, and said, “What were you doing up here?” 

“Moving my things into your room.” She bit her lip. “Is that...okay?”

“I want you with me,” he said simply. Then his eyes darted to the closet, so quickly she almost missed it. Belatedly, Rey realized the closet door had been open before she went in to hide her stockpile. Uh-oh. Miscalculation. 

“I’m hungry,” she blurted, desperately trying to distract him. Not that his discovery of her secret stash would be world-ending, necessarily, but it was still something best kept in the shadows. 

Ben’s attention immediately swiveled back to her. “Good thing we have an entire _smorgasbord_ of options, then. Shall we?” 

“Oooooh, we’re speaking Swedish now, huh?” She smiled brightly and kissed the tip of his nose. “Lead the way, good sir.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a mouth-watering breakfast of belgian waffles and scrambled eggs, Rey cleaned the dishes, hip-checking Ben out of the kitchen when he tried to help, and dried them expertly.

Something about the soothing motions of washing dirty dishes by hand sparked a wholesome sort of calm in her. It always had, even as a child. The routine was familiar and predictable. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why she enjoyed it - it was safe and constant. 

The window above the sink framed a gloomy picture: black skies, intermittent lightning strikes, and a constant, unceasing downpour. The forecast for the day was simple - rain, rain, and more rain. _Stay inside,_ the meteorologists advised. Rey snorted. Had they missed the memo that everyone was in the middle of a _global quarantine_? 

_Ridiculous people._

Finally finished with the dishes, Rey shut the last cabinet and headed into the living room, where she was met with a surprise: rolls and rolls of... _yarn_? All over the couch and floor, on the coffee table and armchair. Even on the bookshelves. It looked like an arts and crafts store had vomited inside Ben’s house. 

“Um, what’s this?” she asked politely, clasping her hands in front of her.

Ben’s head jerked up, and a grin lit his face. The expression was goofy, almost boyish in its enthusiasm. Gesturing grandly, he announced, “This, my dear, is my newest passion.”

She frowned. 

“Okay,” he admitted sheepishly, “I may have gone a little overboard with my knitting lessons. Although, to be fair, they _did_ advise us to come prepared.”

“Knitting?” she exclaimed, picking up a particularly hideous shade of lime green. “When did you learn to _knit_?” 

“About a month BQ,” he said, then, at her raised eyebrow, added, “Before Quarantine.”

“Ah,” she said, releasing the yarn. “Not that I have anything against men partaking in traditionally feminine arts and crafts, but...why and _what_ are you knitting?” 

“Come here,” he said, reaching for her hand. Rey took it, and he pulled her against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he fiddled with a large ball. 

“That’s a pretty color,” she mumbled, gently running a finger over the material. 

“I decided to go the handcrafted route this year for Christmas,” he explained, letting her take the yarn. “Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on useless crap they could just buy themselves, I wanted to make something with my own hands for the people I love.”

 _People he loves._ She swallowed. The words rolled so easily off his tongue. It made her a little envious. 

“Oh,” she said, stilling her nervous movements when he placed his large hands over hers. “That’s a really thoughtful idea, Ben.”

“You think so?”

She turned in his arms, pressing the yarn to his chest so it was squished between them. “Yeah, I do. Only you would think of a thing like this. Well,” she amended, “you and old ladies over the age of sixty-five.”

He kissed her forehead. “Although that may be true, I wish you wouldn’t say it out loud.”

That surprised a laugh out of her. “So,” she said, raising her eyebrows and backing out of his embrace, “what do you have to show for yourself?”

He cocked his head - a move so endearing Rey wanted to squeal and squeeze his cheeks. “In English, please, darling.”

She rolled her eyes to cover her blush. “Have you actually made anything yet? You speak a lot of these so-called Christmas gifts and this so-called act of knitting, but I have seen little evidence save for all this yarn.”

“Ah!” he said, pointing a finger her way. “But I do, and if you’ll give me but a moment…” 

As Ben shoved his hands deep into a gray canvas bag on the armchair, she planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the chaos that was his living room. “Really now, who needs _this_ many balls of yarn?”

“ _Pardon_ me?” Ben ceased moving and stared at her incredulously. “Did you just say _balls of yarn_?”

Flummoxed, Rey turned her palms up like, _What’s the big deal?_ “Uh, yeah, I did.”

“No, no, no.” Heaving a huge sigh, Ben ran a hand through his hair and, dragging the canvas bag behind him, started toward her. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“What?” she said, laughing now. He was being ridiculous, which was just another facet of Ben she loved. 

He grabbed her hand and tugged her next to him on the sofa, batting aside yet more yarn. Settling the canvas bag on the floor between his feet, he extracted a random ball of yellow yarn and held it up to her face. 

“This,” he said slowly, “is not a _ball of yarn_ , Rey. Honestly.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes, as if to say, _The audacity!_ “At the risk of sounding like a gatekeeper, I’m afraid I must inform you that these are called _skeins_.” 

“Skins?”

“ _Skeins_ ,” he repeated, shaking the yarn in front of her. “Skeins, Rey.”

She frowned. “Wait, is there even such a thing as a gatekeeper of _knitting_? Is that even possible?”

“Sweetheart.” Ben gently grasped her chin and turned her focus on him. “Please pay attention. I only have so much patience for yarn slander.” 

A laugh hiccupped out of her. “ _Yarn slander?_ ” 

A smile cracked his faux-steely facade. “It’s a serious crime, and I would ask you not to make light of it.” 

Rey couldn’t take it anymore. She leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Skeins,” she repeated, licking her lips. “I think I’ve got it now.” 

“Are you sure?” His eyes were locked on her mouth. “I have time for another lesson.” 

“I’m sure.” Pulse racing, she gently took the skein of yellow yarn and rolled it back and forth in her hands. “So what have you made?” 

Clearing his throat, Ben reached between his legs and took out a lovely blue and gray scarf. It was only about two feet long so far, but the material was soft and, as far as she could tell, expensive. 

“Wow,” she said, leaning closer, “that’s really nice.” 

He smiled, obviously pleased by her reaction. “It’s a work-in-progress, but I’m making good time.”

“Who’s it for?”

“Finn,” he said, casting a quick glance her way. 

Rey blinked. “Wait, really? But you two barely know each other.”

“We talk sometimes,” he said carefully, averting his eyes. “To catch up.”

“Uh-huh.” He was acting suspicious for some reason, but Rey couldn’t guess why. “Well, I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ben breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “I hope so, considering I already finished Poe’s.”

“Yeah, I -” She stopped, then turned on him. “You _what_?” 

He pulled out a finished scarf in shades of white and cream. Simple, but monochrome colors were kind of Poe’s thing. The scarf was at least four feet from end to end. 

“But,” she stuttered, “I thought you only learned how to knit a month ago!”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “I work fast. Also,” and now he looked a little guilty, “I sometimes knit when I’m on a Zoom call.”

“Oh my god.” She was living with a sixty-five-year-old knitting protege. 

“I know,” he said sagely, placing both scarves back in the bag. “I’m very efficient.”

Rey stared at him, open-mouthed, then burst into laughter. “Oh my god!” she said again. “That’s not what I meant!”

He gently tugged on her arm until she uncovered her face. He kissed the inside of her wrist. Her laughter faded at the touch of his lips. The heat in his eyes was mesmerizing; she had to stand up and move to the opposite side of the coffee table before she did something reckless. Outside, lightning cracked through the sky. 

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Rey tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and picked up the yellow yarn again. “Making anything with this?” she asked, for lack of anything better to say. 

He hummed, watching her. “In fact, I’m using that yarn for a special project.”

“Oh?” Her interest aroused, Rey squinted. “It’s not regular cotton like the rest. It feels like…” She couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“Cashmere,” he murmured, leaning his forearms on his knees. 

“Oh.” She peered up at him. “What are you making?”

“Can’t tell you that,” he said gruffly. “State secret.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, who’s in for?” Cashmere was expensive, wasn’t it? This gift had to be for someone important to him. Maybe a family member? A co-worker? Despite herself, Rey’s mind instantly latched on to that HR woman, Satine. 

But Ben just shook his head. 

Frowning, she placed the yarn on the coffee table. “Can I see Finn and Poe’s scarves again?”

Ben nudged the canvas bag under the table. She grabbed hold and reached inside. Even before she heaved it out of the bag, she could tell the scarf wasn’t made of something so expensive as cashmere. Not pure cotton either. Why was Ben spending all this money on -

Finn’s unfinished scarf was in her hand. She knew that. Ben was sitting on the sofa across from her, attention split between two skeins of identical-looking yarn. She knew that too. 

Yet in her mind, she saw a massive tree. Thick branches arching up towards the ceiling. Green needles that gave off a pungent, authentic pine scent. White lights nestled amongst the vast array of ornaments: cartoon figures, anniversary photos, kindergarten handprints, Disney World mementos, and random letters for the household’s first names. 

Presents under the tree. Wrapped in shades of red and green and gold. Some blue, for the season. Decorated with snowflakes, snowmen, snow angels. A grinning Santa Claus. The smell of fresh-baked cookies in the air. Laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. Happiness. Joy. Family. 

And Rey, banished. Alone in an upstairs room. Undecorated. No tree, no presents, no cookies. A door locked from the outside.

Distantly, Rey was aware that she had frozen. She’d lived half her life in this unnatural stillness, and yet the world around her continued to move on, unaffected. Some part of her knew only seconds had passed in real time, but it already felt like hours. 

But in her experience, seconds _were_ a lifetime. 

Footsteps on the stairs. Creaking and groaning. The turning of a door handle. Bright light and a wash of smell - buttery rolls and cooked ham and, underneath it all, those cookies.

A voice. “Bet you wish you were downstairs, huh?”

Little girl, but not so little as Rey. Everyone was always much bigger than her, like she lived in a world of giants. Bigger and stronger and faster. 

And so much more cruel.

 _No,_ Rey thought to herself, _no, I don’t want to see this. Not now._ The panic was climbing, but she was still mostly self-aware. _Ben’s townhouse. The living room. Yarn. Skeins, not balls. Scarves._

_Scarves._

Sitting on the bed, a young Rey watched the girl’s approach out of the corner of tired eyes. Not moving. Not worth it.

“Look at my new scarf!” A tug on the lacy pink snake around her neck. “Isn’t it pretty?”

 _Don’t nod, don’t nod, don’t nod._ Little Rey nodded. 

A grin made of teeth. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? That you didn’t get any gifts?”

 _Don’t -_ Another nod, quicker this time, more emphatic. 

The grin widened. “Well, here.” Approaching, light-footed, like she wasn’t supposed to be up here. That went without saying, and yet...here she was. 

The scarf unwound. Then suddenly it was on Rey’s neck. Soft and pink and warm. But tight. Too tight. Jerking back on the bed, Rey whimpered, but now it was _tighter_. 

“If you’re so jealous,” the girl said through a smile like glass, “take my scarf! It’s so ugly, it’ll match nicely.” 

Tight. Tighter. _Tightest._

Hands pawing at a throat encased in fire. No oxygen to suffocate the flames, only an airlessness to fan them. 

_Scarves._

The material slipped from Rey’s numb fingers. Did it land back in the bag? She didn’t know. For a minute that was both short and long, empty and full, day and night and summer and winter, Rey sat in a place between places, a world between worlds where no one and nothing existed but her and her pain. A black hole. An imploding planet. 

Then: a return to orbit.

“Rey?”

She moved her head, and it took both seconds and years. Her eyes snagged on Ben, her best friend and maybe more, but she was seeing him from another world. That black hole world. That world of pain. 

“ _Rey._ ” She saw the understanding in his eyes. Emotions flickered across his face like shooting stars. There and then gone. Off to a better place. 

Lost. She was lost.

Tap, tap, tap. Her fingers on the carpet. _Onetwothreefour._

And Ben was in front of her, suddenly and slowly. Like he’d always been there, just out of reach, hands ghosting over her arms, afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse.

“ _Rey._ ” He kept saying her name. “Baby, what can I do? Please, how can I help you?”

 _Twentytwotwentythreetwentyfour._ Rey struggled. Wavered between the numbers and Ben. She teetered, slipped, and blinked. Ben. Ben was here. Ben was here and he had scarves. 

_Scarves._

“Not here,” she managed through lips that were a thousand-million pounds. Not here. Not in the open. Not in the sunlight where they watched TV, where they binged on snacks, where they played with Legos. Not where they held each other. _Not here._

And Ben understood. 

She rose to her feet on knees that creaked and arms that groaned and muscles that could hardly hold her. She rose, and in her mind - _fortyeightfortyninefifty_ \- she visualized the place she wanted to go. It was hard, _so_ hard, like carving away at a glacier with a plastic spoon. 

But she did it, and then she moved. 

She sensed Ben’s hands outstretched, as if to catch her. She didn’t anticipate that happening, not at this point, but never say never. 

Without pausing to think - because if she did it would overwhelm her and she would not resurface for a _long_ time - Rey advanced on the kitchen. Bypass the table. Bypass the counters and the fridge and the stove. Bypass the pantry. Just a little farther. 

There. Success.

A closet. Broom closet. Or something. There was another name for it, but as Rey was currently stuck in the middle of a numbers tornado - _sixteenseventeen_ no start over _onetwothree_ \- she let it go. Hand on the doorknob. Pull. Into the gloom. Sit on the floor. Not dusty, not even dirty - _thanks, Ben_ \- but full of cleaning supplies and pillow cases and mops. Shelving on the right-hand side for more bottles and bleach-equivalents. 

Heart thrumming like a guitar string mid-solo. Breathing in pants, almost wheezing. _Good thing I don’t have asthma._ Then again, if that was the case, Little Suzie’s scarf would’ve done the job that day nine years ago and none of this would matter. 

But again: no asthma.

The world spun. The ceiling was on the floor, the tiles over her head, bottles on the shelves hanging like bats. Swirling and dipping. Chaos. 

Ben entering the closet. So big and broad, making an otherwise large room tiny and cramped. Ben pulling the door closed behind him. Shutting out the light. But his silhouette was a clear outline, and no matter which way the room swayed, Ben stayed solid. 

She gulped in air. Fresh oxygen to the brain. That was what she needed most right now. _Oxygen._ Okay, she could do this. Breathing was natural. Breathing was second-nature. In and out like clockwork. 

_Nothing around your neck, Rey. Nothing around your neck. Breathe and breathe and breathe. There’s nothing stopping you._

But she was wheezing anyway, and she had to clamp her eyes shut so she couldn’t see the world rearranging itself. This wasn’t fair. None of this was _ever_ fair, and _goddamnit_ , she was _so fucking tired of it_ \- 

“Rey. Look at me.”

Her heart was going supernova. Was there documented evidence somewhere of a twenty-one-year-old suffering a heart attack? Heart failure? Surely not. Right? 

“Please, sweetheart, _please_ look at me.”

Rey looked. 

Ben’s face was hazy, but she could make out the curve of his lips, the flush of his cheeks, the line of his neck. All places she’d kissed. 

“The sensations you’re feeling, the things you’re seeing in your mind, they aren’t real. Say it back to me. _They aren’t real_.” 

_They aren’t real. None of this is real._

“Out loud,” he demanded, hands white-knuckled on the shelves. 

“Not real.” That was _her_ voice. Soft and faint and little more than a whisper. That was _Rey_. “None of this is real.” 

“ _Yes._ Say it again, baby. These are memories. They aren’t real.” 

“They’re not real.”

Heart windmilling. Pulse like a hummingbird, like a jet going Mach-5. _Breathe_ , she told herself. _You can do that much. It’s okay. Just breathe._

“Again.”

Stronger now. Or at least not so faint. “They’re not real.”

“Again, Rey.”

“Memories. They’re memories, they’re not real.” A sob. “Not real, _they’re not real.”_

“Rey. You’re here with me. In my house. You’re safe. Say it back.”

“I’m w-with you,” she stammered, tears on her lips. Salty and wet and uninvited. “I’m in your h-house.”

“You’re _safe_. Tell me.”

“I’m safe.” _Am I?_ No, see, that was the panic speaking. She _was_ safe. Truly. 

Her breathing suddenly slowed. “I’m safe,” she repeated, slowly now. Rolling this truth around in her mouth. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Ben said, and his voice shook. “Yes, you’re safe, baby, and do you remember what I told you?” 

Remembering was so fucking hard. Remembering the _right_ things. But she tried anyway.

“Um, y-you said…” Ben. What had Ben said to her about being safe? _Oh._ “When I’m with you, I’m safe.” 

Ben made a strange noise in the back of his throat, like a growl. “That’s right, sweetheart. I will _always_ make sure you’re safe. That is my number-one priority now. Keeping you safe. God, Rey,” and here his voice cracked, “I love you so goddamn much. I will never let _anything_ happen to you, I swear on my _life_...” 

In the dark, she felt his fingers whisper along her arm. Her breathing evened out, and without thinking she caught his hand. She brought it to her neck and left it there, the heat of his palm and the weight of his fingers doing strange things to her mind. Strange but welcome.

No more awful memories. No more counting. Just a pleasant hum. 

“Rey,” he croaked, shifting closer, “can I touch you?”

And even now, he waited for her answer.

Rey collapsed into his arms. He caught her around the waist and scooped her off the ground with such ease one might assume she was nothing but straw. Back through the kitchen. Into the living room. She kept her eyes closed and pressed into his shoulder as an extra measure, not wanting to risk it. 

Oddly, she wasn’t crying anymore. In fact, she’d barely cried at all to begin with. This was...different. Her mind was also unusually calm. The surface placid, like a lake. The depths bubbling a little, but only in the aftershocks. 

Very strange.

Ben sat on the floor in front of the sofa, shoving the coffee table away with the heel of his foot. The floor opened up, and he stretched his legs out, maneuvering Rey between them. She pulled his arm around and clung to it, hesitantly peeking around the room. No sign of the scarves, or even the canvas bag for that matter.

That was good, but…

As if sensing her agitation, Ben brushed his lips over her ear and murmured, “Want to talk about it?”

She nodded.

“The scarves.” 

Another nod. 

“What about them?” He started idly playing with a loose strand of her hair, twisting it again and again around his index finger. His body loomed over hers, surrounding, enfolding. _Protecting._

“I’m…” Rey had to stop and start over. Her voice was raspy like she smoked two packs a day. “I’m not sure.”

“The color?”

“No, it wasn’t that.”

“The scarves themselves?” 

Rey considered. Even though a scarf had been the dreaded object in question, it hadn’t necessarily been the trigger. 

“No,” she said slowly. “Not that either.”

“The material, then.” 

But Rey knew that was wrong too. “It was more like… I’m not sure how to explain it. Like a _sensation_. I was looking at the scarf but thinking about other stuff. And suddenly I was reminded of Christmastime and… I don’t know.” _The trigger, what’s the trigger?_

Then it came to her, so simple, so obvious: the smell. The scarves smelled like cinnamon and flour. 

“Like cookies,” she murmured, understanding everything. It all clicked into place, and the tension left her shoulders.

“Cookies?” Ben shifted, thighs tightening on the outside of hers. 

“That Christmas, I smelled cookies, but I...I couldn’t have any.”

She heard his teeth grind together. “I see.”

Rey swallowed heavily and whispered, “One of the kids tried to strangle me with a scarf.” 

Ben’s body went rigid. 

She continued, knowing if she didn’t get it all out now, she would never speak of it again. “I had to go to the hospital. Minor bruising and abrasions, but I couldn’t talk normally for about a week. Not too long, I guess. It was just a scarf, after all.”

Ben made a pained, animal sound in the back of his throat. His arms cradled her against him, lips pressed to her shoulder. 

“I am so sorry,” he whispered, voice muffled. “I am so, so sorry, Rey. None of that was your fault. You don't deserve that - _any_ of it.” Then, quietly, “I love you.” 

Heart in her throat, Rey blinked back tears. _I love you._ This was not the first time he’d said that, she realized suddenly, but she still didn’t know how to react. Loved her like...more than a friend? Loved her like a girlfriend? Loved her like… She didn’t know. 

But oh, how she'd longed to hear those three words. 

Rey turned her head and clumsily kissed his bicep, the skin hot and smooth under her lips. She knew this wasn’t nearly as good as a declaration of love, but it was all she had for now. 

Ben, for his part, didn’t seem bothered. He hiked his knees up on either side, caging her in, and proceeded to kiss his way down her throat. Her breath caught as he neared her collarbone, and he surprised her by scraping his teeth along the skin where her neck and shoulder met. 

Her back arched, thighs squeezing together. “ _Ben._ ” 

He lapped gently at the tender spot, tongue slick and soft on her skin. A moan escaped, and Rey kept one of his hands pinned flat on her stomach. She twisted in his arms, seeking his mouth, but he kept a firm grip.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he promised in a voice like velvet. Rey shuddered.

“For now,” he continued, “why don’t I teach you a new skill?”

Rey reluctantly turned her attention to the inexplicable field of yarn. “You mean, teach me how to knit?” 

He hummed his assent. “You could try making scarves of your own. Hats, blankets, whatever. And,” he added gently, stroking her wrists, “it keeps your hands busy.” 

Well, she didn’t really need convincing then, did she? 

“Okay,” she agreed lightly. “Show me the way of the yarn.”

Ben relaxed and dragged a new bag over. Inside was a mix of tools and small, informational pamphlets. “Tutorials,” Ben clarified. 

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head back to see his face, “you know what would go great with all this yarn?”

“What’s that?” His fingers fiddled with a too-small pair of knitting needles. She gently replaced them with a much larger pair she found in the bag. 

“A kitty.”

Ben groaned. “ _Rey!_ ”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean, I’m not _wrong,_ am I?” 

He grumbled some more, pressing his mouth to her hair so his words were muffled.

“What was that?” She poked his knee. 

“I said we better get to work on these Christmas presents. Those scarves aren’t going to knit themselves, you know.”

Rey rolled her eyes but picked up a new color. A gorgeous shade of auburn. “So this is a _skein_ , not a ball?” 

Ben pressed a soft kiss to her jaw. “Yes,” he murmured, “that’s exactly right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **the trauma I put our girl through!! whew!! but we're making...dare I say...progress!?**
> 
> **so I wasn't sure if I'd get this chap out on time, but then over the weekend I inexplicably wrote 7k words?? 🥴 and I also have 3/4 of the next chapter finished too!! I'll most likely post on time for that one as well wahooo 💗**
> 
> say hi!!  
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	11. The Spark That Will Light The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey takes a trip to the grocery store and enters **Crisis Mode**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **all I can say is: sry for the random food porn ?? maybe i was hungry**
> 
> **also peep ultra-protective Ben in this chap**

** DAY NINE---part I **

Ben was up by six and in his study by seven.

 _Early bird gets the worm?_ Rey scoffed and burrowed deeper under the covers. _Early bird gets too-hot coffee and big bags under the eyes._

However. There _was_ one perk to Ben's early rising. In the single hour he was awake, he detoured back into the bedroom to kiss her nine times. 

And for the hundredth time, Rey told herself she didn’t deserve him. As a friend, a bestie with benefits, or anything else. Ben proved every day that he was the kindest person on this side of the Atlantic - maybe even the Northern Hemisphere. His kindness, in all its many forms - subtle and glaring both - deserved recognition. 

All her life, people had told Rey that she didn’t know much about anything, and frankly, she had to admit there was some truth to that, but there was also one thing she knew better than most, and that thing was food. 

So after her shower, after she tossed on an old pair of black leggings and a fun tie-dyed shirt, Rey slunk past the study, keeping her footsteps light so she wouldn’t disturb Ben, who was on one of his endless Zoom calls. She wondered briefly if he was knitting under his desk. The thought made her grin.

Her shoes were by the front door, disposable masks on the kitchen counter, and after writing out a quick note for Ben - **Grocery store, be back soon!** \- she grabbed the keys to the truck and flew out the door. 

It was exhilarating, finally being out of the house. Windows down, radio on, the steering wheel firm beneath her hands. Wind in her hair, truck running at a smooth, near-soundless fifty-five. Summer was in full swing; thanks to quarantine, everyone had missed out on the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it transition from spring to summer. 

Rey hummed happily, bouncing a little in the truck’s leather seat. She was so jealous Ben got to ride in this thing all the time. Her own car was twenty years old, with roll-up windows and a broken heater. The radio worked, but half the time it just played static. Unfortunate, but Rey had learned long ago to work with what she had. 

The parking lot of the local grocery store was livelier than normal. Rey wasn’t surprised, but she _was_ disappointed. To expect everyone to keep their chill at a time like this was perhaps naive, but it still grated on her nerves to be surrounded by so many unknown people. She liked to shop without any fuss. Of course, half the time her “quick” shopping trips ended up taking hours because she was inevitably fascinated by all the options. 

Snapping the mask in place, Rey shuffled for the entrance. 

_I’m not going to stockpile,_ she promised herself, grabbing a rickety metal shopping cart. _I am definitely_ not _going to buy more tuna. Or beans. Or those really tasty chocolate chip granola bars. Although the ones with the s’mores flavor are really good too. Not that I’m going to buy them. Because I’m not. Absolutely will not even consider it._

She passed the snack aisle and tossed in two boxes of granola bars without stopping. 

Starting at the far end of the store, Rey hesitated in an out-of-the-way spot to pull herself together. Wallet - check. There were approximately forty-two dollars in the billfold and seventy-two cents in the attached coin purse. She didn’t like carrying around more than fifty dollars in cash at a time, so this was what she had to work with. 

Time check: eight-fifty. Ben wouldn’t leave the study until noon, when he broke for lunch, so she had at least two and a half hours. Which, for a normal person, was double the amount of time needed. But for Rey, it was a bit of a time-crunch. Food made her anxious, yes, and it tended to stress her out, but something about all those neat, colorful rows of cans and boxes and plastic wrap made her mind light up like a switchboard. If ever there was an apocalypse, the grocery store was where she’d head first. 

Rey brought out her shopping list. There was a specific recipe she had in mind, and she didn’t want to miss anything. This was going to be a special surprise - one of Ben’s favorite meals cooked by one of his favorite people. (Not to be presumptuous, of course, but at this point she had managed to clue in a little.) She wasn’t an expert cook or anything - in fact, the stovetop sometimes scared her - but for Ben she was willing to go out on a limb. 

“Here we go,” she muttered, and pushed her cart down the first aisle. 

Salt and pepper. One shaker of each. Rey figured Ben probably already had at least a few ingredients back at the house, but she felt weird about using his own ingredients to make his special meal. That was a little too...cheap. 

So. Salt and pepper went into the cart. Doing good so far. She grabbed a jar of peanut butter, hesitating at the selection. Creamy or chunky? Rey quickly ran through the pros and cons and decided on chunky. But then there was the brand. She usually went with Jif, but that was much more expensive than the store brand. She twisted a jar in her hands, spinning, spinning, spinning it around nervously as she thought. 

Twenty minutes later, she finally came to a decision. The winner is...Jif Extra Chunky! She smiled and placed it in the cart. It was definitely more expensive, but peanut butter was one of her favorite foods. She always allowed herself to splurge on a single item each shopping trip. Today that item was her precious Jif. 

With a relieved sigh, Rey checked the time. Nine-fifteen. Still doing okay. She skipped the next two aisles and made her way to the garlic. _Minced garlic_ , she repeated to herself. _Minced garlic, Rey, you can do this._ Damn but she _hated_ having a time limit. 

She stopped in front of the garlic. But wait a second. There was minced garlic, and there was _minced garlic in water_. Oh, and then there was minced garlic in one of those miniature condiment containers that matched the salt and pepper. Which one was the right kind? Did it matter? 

A trickle of sweat dripped down her temple, and Rey wiped it away with the back of her hand. _Fuck._

“This is...not ideal,” she whispered to herself, glancing at a woman down the aisle. One reason masks were helpful, aside from the obvious: nobody could tell when you talked to yourself. 

_I wonder if she knows,_ Rey thought, eyeing the woman’s neatly pressed slacks. _She looks like someone who’d know the difference between all these garlics._

Swallowing, Rey shook her head. _Social distancing,_ she reminded herself. _You can figure this out for yourself._ Of course, it would be so easy to look up this information on Google, but Rey had forgotten her phone at the house. Figured. 

Rolling her lips together, she carefully deliberated and slowly, like some wild animal was just waiting around the corner to attack if she moved too fast, she grasped the normal jar of minced garlic. No water. No miniature plastic shaker. 

Confidently, she put the jar in her cart next to the salt and pepper, but she didn’t make it halfway down the aisle before retracing her steps and double-checking. Another twenty minutes passed, and with slightly less enthusiasm, Rey grabbed a jar at random and moved on. 

And so it went. 

The snack aisle was her worst enemy, as were the non-perishables. Those two aisles alone cost her over an hour. Increasingly aware that she was nearing the two-hour mark, Rey did her best to hurry. Of course, the beans were a whole different experience altogether, and the tuna proved too tempting (she snatched up three cans almost unconsciously). At the end of an aisle, she checked her shopping list and was irritated by the results. She had only gotten half of the things on the list so far, and there weren’t that many to begin with. 

Groaning, Rey moved towards the meat section. _This should be easy,_ she told herself, confidence flagging. _Chicken. Literally all chicken is the same. No pork chops or steak or ham or turkey. Just chicken! You can do this, Rey!_

Right.

She was pushing the cart towards the back corner of the store, eyeing the meats, when she stopped dead in her tracks. Her mind locked on the wall of plastic packets like twin lazers, and she clasped her hands in front of her chest as if in reverence. 

_Cheese._

“Oh my god,” she whispered, staring up at the rows upon rows of shredded, block, and cream cheeses. “They expanded their selection.” She felt faint.

A special warmth bloomed in her chest, the kind of warmth particular to her love of food. _Comfort_ food. She gazed at the shredded cheeses, calculating prices and adjusting her shopping list to make room for the cheese. Approaching the shredded mozzarella, Rey flexed her fingers and got to work. 

Time passed. Customers moved around her in hazy blurs. Rey was aware that the employee in charge of the frozen section had started eyeing her sometime in the last few minutes, but she easily banished him to the part of her mind labeled IRRELEVANT. 

Swiss. Three-cheese mozzarella. Cheddar. Spicy jalapeño. White. Gruyere. Her mind hummed contentedly. She was in the zone, her favorite place to be. She could easily substitute regular mozzarella for three-cheese, and the price wouldn’t even be that different. A few cents. 

Cream cheese in one hand and a block of cheddar in the other, Rey closely examined the ingredients for each, weighing the significance of one over the other. Price-wise, the cheddar was her best bet, but Rey was trying to convince herself that the cream cheese in the fridge at home was expired so she could buy this one. 

_Wait, at_ home _? Since when do I think of Ben’s place as home?_

Frowning, she turned towards the cart, which sat lonely and abandoned a few feet away, when a hand roughly grabbed her forearm from behind. 

Rey shrieked and dropped both cheeses. 

She swiveled around, yanking her arm back, eyes wide, preparing to use a block of mozzarella as a weapon if necessary -

But it was Ben, and he looked _pissed._

“Ben?” She blinked twice at the grip on her arm. 

“We’re leaving,” he said, voice muffled but undeniably hard. His face was very pale. 

Alarm sung through her. “But...the cart!” 

He wasn’t listening. She tugged once, but he merely pulled her through the store like she weighed nothing. Like she was a puppy who’d somehow got off the leash. Unable to free herself, Rey stumbled along behind him, jogging a little to keep up with his long legs. 

Once they were in the parking lot, she blurted, “Wait, how did you get here?” 

“Uber,” he said shortly, towing her in the direction of his truck. 

Uber? Rey frowned. Were they still doing ride-share services now? When everything else was already shut down? That didn’t seem safe. 

“Keys,” he demanded, but she was still floundering, so he dipped his hand in the side-pocket of her leggings and extracted his keys. 

“Ben, what’s going on? Why did you come here?” Had something horrible happened? Maybe Uncle Chewie had gotten hurt in Montana. 

Unlocking the passenger-side door, Ben took her by the hips and lifted her into the seat. Wordlessly, he shut the door. 

Rey’s hands were clammy, her thoughts revving at a million miles an hour. Ben was clearly upset. Something must have happened. Whatever it was, they could deal with it. Well, hopefully. And the shopping cart…. She felt horrible abandoning it in the middle of the store, knowing that the employees would have to put everything back themselves. Good thing she hadn’t decided on the meat; it wouldn’t spoil now. 

Ben threw himself into the driver’s seat and tore out of the parking lot, truck engine roaring. She watched with wide eyes.

“Your seatbelt -”

He snapped it in place without taking his eyes off the road. Belatedly, she realized her mask was still in place, and she hastily tore it off.

“Ben,” she said, desperate, “please tell me what’s going on.”

His jaw was tight. “You shouldn’t have gone there.”

More confusion. “The grocery store? Why not?” 

He swallowed, shaking his head. “You can’t just leave the house without telling me, Rey.” 

What? Slowly, her fear and confusion gave way to anger. Had he _seen_ how many people were at the store? Why were they all allowed out, but she wasn’t?

“Ben,” she said patiently, “I left you a note. Didn’t you see?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth, signaling for the entrance to the expressway. 

Rey threw her hands up, exasperated. “Well, then, what’s the problem? I told you where I was in the note because I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were working!” 

They swerved into the left lane, accelerating past a line of slow-moving cars. The odometer crept past seventy. 

“Ben?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

“It’s not safe for you to be out right now.”

Flabbergasted, she could only stare, at a loss for words. “W- _what_?” 

“Goddamnit, Rey!” Ben’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t want you to get sick! You can’t just leave the house whenever you want. Something might -“ He broke off, fuming.

“You’re not making any sense,” she whispered. He was scaring her a little.

Abruptly, he veered across two lanes of traffic and onto the off-ramp. He drove three blocks and pulled into an empty Wendy’s parking lot. They sat in silence for a minute, listening to the engine and the blast of air from the vents. 

Rey didn’t know what was going on, but she sensed it was a lot more serious than it seemed. 

“Ben, I -”

He stared straight ahead. “Your safety comes first with me, Rey. Always. You know this. I have no right to demand it of you, but I… Please just -”

Words seemed to fail him for a moment. He hit the steering wheel once with a big fist, and Rey jumped.

“Don’t leave the house. Okay? Just for now. I need you to stay home.”

“Why?” she demanded, feeling panicky. “There were a lot of people shopping! It can’t be that unsafe if -”

“ _I don’t care about anyone else!_ ” he shouted, facing her, eyes bright. “I need to know you’re safe, and I can’t do that when you wander off without telling me! I can’t…”

Ben put his head down on the wheel. Obviously struggling to control himself, he added quietly, “If something happens to you, I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

Rey’s lips trembled, but she pressed them together. _Not now_ , she told herself firmly. _Ben needs you._

“You’re afraid I might get the virus?” 

He nodded wearily.

“Even though I’m wearing a mask?” she asked lightly. “And you know how careful I am, Ben, I would _never_ jeopardize -”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted roughly. “One wrong move and you could wind up in the hospital.”

It hit her then, like a lightning bolt, why he was so fearful: his mother had died from pneumonia. Contracted, diagnosed, and dead within a month. The doctors all agreed Leia must've come in contact with someone who was asymptomatic. 

Her stomach dropped through the floor. _Oh my god, Rey. You idiot!_

Rey licked her dry lips. “Okay,” she said finally. “Then we...we can order groceries online from now on. I...I’m sorry.”

At that, Ben finally lifted his head. His eyes were black, jaw tight like he meant to grind his teeth to dust. His cheekbones stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of his face, giving him a hard, sculpted look. Rey’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. How could she have forgotten something so important? 

“Thank you,” he breathed, reaching for her. Their fingers intertwined easily. 

She nodded once, glancing out the windshield. There were no other cars in sight. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue after all that rain, sunshine bright and soft - the complete opposite of the heavy mood in the car. 

“Listen,” Ben said softly, and her eyes drifted back to him. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I know how irrational this is.”

She bit her lip and said nothing. He wouldn’t like it if she brought u[ his mother. Not now. 

Running a hand through his tousled black hair, he went on. “This is new for me. I… Ah, fuck.” He laughed a little, closing his eyes briefly against whatever was going on in his head.

“It...pains me to be away from you,” he said finally, cringing. “And I _know_ how insane that sounds, believe me, but I get worried when you leave. I don’t like being apart from you.”

Rey swallowed and did her best to smile, even though her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Ben was usually so mild-mannered, the rock to her ocean. To hear him speak like this, to know that he felt this possessiveness over her… Well, she didn’t know how to feel. This side of him was so _new_. 

“Especially now, when it’s so dangerous to be out in public, the thought of you getting sick or hurt or...literally a hundred other horrible things, is… I can’t deal. I just… I can’t.”

Ben was looking at her with such naked fear, Rey moved without thinking it over. She crawled into his lap and folded her arms behind his head, hugging him tight. The steering wheel dug into her spine, but the pain was a distant afterthought. He clung to her desperately, pushing his face into her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m acting crazy.”

“I get it,” she murmured. “Really, Ben, it’s okay.”

“It’s _not_. I grabbed your wrist and -” He gently pried her arm from his neck and examined her skin. No bruising. “I _never_ want to hurt you. Ever. _Fuck_ , I can’t believe - I’m _such_ an asshole.”

“Ben,” she said, concerned by his self-flagellation. “Stop it. I said everything’s fine. I know you were just afraid.” She carefully cradled his face in her hands. “I know what it’s like to be so panicked you kind of lose your mind.” 

He swallowed heavily and gazed back into her eyes. “If I ever do that again -”

“I’ll slap you,” she informed him. “Like, _really_ hard.” 

A small, brittle smile cracked his lips. “Deal.” 

She kissed him and climbed back into her seat. “But I am kind of mad at you.” 

His eyebrows rose. “I don’t blame you.”

“I was planning something special.”

His hands stilled on the center console. “For…?”

She snorted and threw her hands up. “For you, silly. I was going to cook for you. Because, you know…” She looked down at her lap, fidgeting. “As a thank you.”

He gently slid his fingers through hers, separating her hands. “You don’t need to thank me, Rey.”

She shrugged. “I know, but I wanted to do it anyway.”

They were quiet as he merged back on the expressway. “What were you going to make?”

“Chicken parm.”

He groaned, head tipping back against the headrest. “Yet more proof I am an absolute _buffoon_.” 

“Don’t be dramatic,” she laughed. “We can always make it another time.” 

“I know.” He squeezed their linked hands. “Thank you, Rey. For thinking of me.” 

She blushed and shrugged again. As long as Ben was okay, she could forgive pretty much anything. _She_ was the one who fell apart, and to see him like that - well, now she could imagine a little of what he felt whenever he witnessed an episode. 

“I love you,” Ben said softly. She nodded and kissed his shoulder.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the townhouse, Rey dropped tiredly onto the couch. The trip had taken a lot out of her, and it was only half past noon. This was why she never woke early; there was too much extra time in a day.

“Time for a nap?” Ben asked, stroking her hair. 

She murmured at his touch and snuggled into the back cushions. Maybe if she dropped off for an hour or two, the day wouldn't seem so long. Plus, the couch had a lot of good memories. 

But Ben had other ideas.

“How about this,” he said, and folded her up in the blue throw blanket. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her up to his study, ignoring her surprised squawks. 

Settling down in his enormous rollback chair, Ben positioned her in his lap, shifting her head to his shoulder, moving her legs so they hung over the side. He kissed her forehead.

“Comfortable?”

Rey nodded sleepily. Oh, _was_ she. This was a million times better than the couch.

Ben opened his laptop and clicked through his applications with his free hand, the other curled around her waist. Rey snuggled into his chest, pressing her lips lightly to the skin of his neck. She kissed the spot where his pulse thudded and felt him shudder. 

It wasn’t long before she drifted off, thoughts of Ben and his lips and hands swirling in her mind.

Hours or minutes later, Rey stirred. She sighed and breathed in a familiar scent: sandalwood. Her mind filled with images of Ben, and when she cracked open an eye, there he was. The very first thing she saw. 

Granted, he was hard to miss.

She watched him for a minute, unobserved. He was completely immersed in whatever was happening on his computer screen. The click of the mouse and the hum of the air conditioner were the only sounds in the otherwise quiet room. 

Ben’s brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and she could imagine all the many thoughts unraveling in his mind. Solving problems, making decisions, saying whatever was necessary in order to seal a deal. Her Ben was so fucking _smart_. 

She licked her lips and shifted her head on his shoulder. “Afternoon.” 

His focus snapped to her instantly. No hesitation, no lingering on the contents of his screen. A warm feeling bloomed in her chest. 

“There she is,” he murmured, smiling. “I was wondering when you’d resurface.”

She yawned and stretched her legs. “Here I am.” She blinked sleepily at his screen. “How’s it going?” 

“Same as always.” He kissed her temple and wound his arms around her to get to the keyboard. “Busy bee.”

She leaned back into his chest. “You sound like Uncle Chewie.” 

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” he said, typing out an email.

“Of course it is,” she exclaimed, watching his large hands move across the keys. “He’s the second-coolest person I know.”

“Oh?” His fingers stilled on the keyboard, and one hand drifted to her waist. “And who has the honor of first place?”

Rey shrugged nonchalantly. “Nobody you’d know.”

He scoffed and kissed her throat. “Don’t make me get it out of you. I won't play fair.” 

Rey bit her lip, pulse thrumming at the feel of his mouth on her again. “Maybe I can give you a hint.” 

But before things could escalate, a sharp _ding!_ indicated a new notification. Curious, Rey shifted in his lap, peering at the screen. He inhaled sharply and accidentally clicked on the small, bouncing bubble in the corner.

“Ah, shit,” Ben muttered, and then suddenly there was a man staring back at them. 

Rey gaped in surprise. The man, slightly overweight, with dark hair and a beard shading to gray, gaped back. 

“Hey there, Wexley,” Ben said casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like there wasn’t an additional person in the room, sitting in his lap. 

“Uh, hey, Solo.” The man, Wexley, stared at Rey with more than a few questions in his eyes. “Who, ah, who might this be?” 

“Um,” Rey started, with no idea where she was going to take this. Ben put a gentle hand on her stomach.

“This is my girlfriend, Rey,” he said. 

She stared at their image on the screen. 

Wexley’s eyes widened imperceptibly. “I see. I apologize for the, ah, interruption.”

“Not at all,” Ben said smoothly as she slowly began the incredibly awkward process of climbing off his lap in front of his co-worker. 

His hands settled briefly on her hips, steadying her, and at his touch, Rey’s senses came flooding back. She glanced quickly at the screen. 

“Um, hi,” she said, wincing. “Sorry about this. I’ll just…” Gesturing over her shoulder, she started to stand up when Ben caught her hand and pulled her into a quick kiss. 

“I’ll be down in a bit,” he murmured in a low voice. Rey was hyperaware of Wexley’s presence. “Stay out of trouble.”

He released her, and Rey stared back at him with wide, dazed eyes. Belatedly, she realized his co-worker had not only _seen_ everything but likely heard it all too. He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he’d been watching. 

“S-sorry,” Rey said again, waving awkwardly at the screen as she scurried out of the room. 

From behind her, the man said, “A girlfriend, Solo? Bravo! She’s _cute_.”

Ben laughed, said, “Don’t get any ideas, Snap,” and then she was in the hallway, cheeks on fire. _Oh my god, oh my god._

He’d called her his girlfriend! 

Rey didn’t know what to do. Celebrate? She oddly felt like celebrating. A part of her also felt like she was acting like a fourteen-year-old prepubescent preteen who had just snagged her first boyfriend. 

Wait a minute. Rey shook her head. She’d technically never had a boyfriend. So that meant...her feelings were valid? 

_Too much thinking!_ she scolded herself, and in a fit of spontaneity, she danced around the kitchen, holding a hand to her mouth. Ben wanted her to be his girlfriend! He’d kissed her in front of a coworker! That meant he didn’t care who knew, right? 

Taking a deep breath, Rey tried to get a handle on herself. There was still a couple hours before Ben’s workday ended, and she was practically vibrating. Glancing out the window, she figured any outside activities were automatically off the table - it was still downpouring, and she wasn’t exactly in the mood to get struck by lightning. 

“Okay,” she said, nodding. A big grin broke out across her face, which she tried to smother. She was Ben Solo’s _girlfriend!_ She shook her head. “Focus, Rey. That leaves, uh…” 

Her eyes settled on the bright pink gaming console. 

Two hours later, Rey was snuggled deep into the couch, legs thrown over the arm as she pressed buttons and fiddled with the joystick. She heard Ben descend the stairs, but she was in the middle of terraforming a particularly tricky spot of land near a waterfall…

Ben peered over the back of the couch, eyebrow raised. “In the middle of something?”

She grunted, beating the landscape to dust as she failed once again to correctly gauge the amount of available space on her island. “I hate this game.”

“Somehow I doubt that's true,” he said, dipping into the kitchen and coming out a minute later with two glasses of ice water. 

“No, really,” she insisted, narrowing her eyes at the screen. Of course it had to be raining on her island too. 

“How many hours have you logged?” Ben sat down next to her, arm flung across the back of the couch. 

“I don’t know, like four hundred or something.” 

He choked on a sip of water. “I rest my case.”

Rey growled. “Oh, c’mon, Filbert, not now! Can’t you see I’m busy?” She kicked her feet angrily. “I’m doing this for _you_!” 

“Okaaay,” Ben said slowly, placing his water glass on the side table. “I think it’s time for a break.”

“No, no!” she protested, instantly contrite. “I’m not done yet! I want to finish this today so I can surprise all my villagers! Well,” she added with a scowl, “everyone but Filbert, apparently.” 

Ben sighed and eased the gaming console out of her grasp. She quickly closed the software before it was out of her reach. 

“There,” he said, pushing it to the other side of the coffee table. “Out of sight, out of mind. Some time away will be good, I think. Filbert will understand.”

She pouted, crossing her arms and glaring at him upside-down. “ _You_ don’t understand.”

“No, I do not,” he agreed, seeming perfectly okay with it. He leaned over. “Drink some water. I bet it’s been a few hours.”

“A few hours isn’t enough to dehydrate me,” she argued, realizing at that precise moment that she was, in fact, quite thirsty. 

“Please,” he added, and kissed her nose. 

Rey grumbled half-heartedly and flipped herself upright. Sitting on her knees, she grabbed the water glass and gulped it down. _How dare he always talk sense,_ she thought moodily. _Insufferable man._

“Better?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, _Dad_. All better.” 

His eyes darkened. “There it is again. _Dad_ ,” he muttered, pulling her into his lap. She went willingly. 

“Keep that up and -” But he cut himself off. 

“And _what_?” Rey challenged, placing her hands on his chest. 

He shook his head and kissed her roughly. “What do you want for dinner?”

Deciding to let it go for now, Rey said, “I guess some of the leftover pasta. I’m really craving Chinese takeout though.” She gazed at him sadly. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he said gruffly, hands smoothing up her sides. “You know I can’t force the restaurants to reopen. I would if I could.” He kissed her again. “For you.”

“I know,” she said, and hugged him around the neck. “Thank you.”

They stayed just like that for a minute before she suddenly jerked back. 

“What?” he asked, alarmed.

She tried to be serious. “You told that man I’m your girlfriend, Ben.”

He flushed. “So I did.”

“Well?” She tilted her chin up. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” he said, and her bravado faltered. At the look on her face, he added hastily, “That is, if you want to be.”

She bit her lip, unable to hold the question back. “Do _you_ want me to be your girlfriend?”

Ben captured her lips in another searing kiss. “More than anything.”

“Okay,” she said, grinning hugely. “Okay, then.” And she laughed. 

“Dinner?”

Rey nodded eagerly and climbed off his lap. “I call dibs on the cheese!”

“Will I always have to compete with a highly processed food item for your affections?”

She cast a look over her shoulder. “Such is life, Ben. Such is life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **c h e e s e**
> 
> **i really didn't notice until i finished but literally this whole chapter was just an ode to grocery stores everywhere keep doin what you're doin guys**
> 
> **i feel like i keep repeating myself but: next chapter may or may not be late & that's how it'll be until the fic's done!**
> 
> say hi!!  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)


	12. Your Highness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i'll take "acting like a married couple" for 500, Alex ✌🏻😇**
> 
> **happy i got this out on time, i wrote the second half of the chap last night oop**

** DAY NINE---part II **

After dinner, Rey and Ben found themselves leaping into bed with a mix of childlike enthusiasm and sheer determination to avoid the living room for a night. At this point it wouldn’t surprise either of them if Netflix decided to kick them off for surpassing their media consumption limit. 

With the rain and thunder outside and the warm blanket fort inside, which Rey had painstakingly constructed around them, it was a perfect night to relax in bed. 

_Not that I haven’t been doing a lot of that already,_ she thought wryly. This was quarantine day...uh, something. 

Ben reached into the bedside drawer and extracted a thick paperback novel. “This’ll do the trick.”

Rey cupped her glass of red wine, feeling very much like a sophisticated adult. It took some persuading on her end to convince Ben that it was perfectly fine for her to consume alcohol in the privacy of their home. But it worked, and quickly, for which Rey was immensely thankful. The phrase _their home_ had momentarily thrown her off balance, and her powers of persuasion had deserted her. 

“What are we reading?” she asked, squirming under Ben’s long arm. 

He hugged her shoulder. “A sci-fi classic. _Dune_ by Frank Herbert.”

“Is that the one about -”

“Don’t even start,” he interrupted, thumbing through the first few pages. 

“ _Excuse_ me?” Rey glared and tapped a finger against her wine glass. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean, sir?”

He kept his eyes on the book. “Your summaries are somehow always scarily inaccurate.”

“Look, just because I _skim_ the Wikipedia page instead of reading the full article does not mean -”

Ben put a finger on her mouth, then immediately replaced it with his lips. “It means you think a movie like _Pacific Rim_ is about a group of quirky alien misfits who come together to protect the galaxy from an intelligent robot species, which, oddly, is close enough to the plots of both _Pacific Rim_ and _Guardians of the Galaxy_ to be a little worrying.” 

“The robot aspect confused me,” she admitted in a mumble.

He kissed her temple. “I know it did.”

Ben took a quick sip of his own wine before settling in. The book was massive at just over eight-hundred pages, and Rey feared her attention span would buckle under the weight. She indulged in the occasional novel or series - hello, Percy Jackson! - but a normal-sized book usually took her months. 

Not only that, but sitting next to Ben, pressed to his side like this, under his arm, really wasn’t a sound idea either. Her libido had been a little out of control lately, especially whenever he used _that_ voice. The one that was low and vaguely threatening, but in a delicious, unbearably hot way. 

Ben pulled her tighter against him and began to read. 

“In the week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the mother of the boy, Paul…”

They spent the next hour reading about a world in which families owned entire planets, where convoluted religions stretched far and wide, where galactic politics took on a whole new meaning. Soothed by the warm, steady cadence of Ben’s voice, Rey listened with rapt attention. She was drawn into the story much more than she’d anticipated and had no trouble following the plot. 

In fact, lately, she’d realized that the sci-fi genre held more than a passing interest for her. After watching that trilogy of space wizard movies, she actually considered setting up a blog or something where she could talk about and review sci-fi content. This was still just an idea, and a barely formed one, at that. But Rey hadn’t immediately discarded it like she normally would. 

Lulled by Ben’s voice, Rey looked up at him as he came to the end of a page. Her heart threw itself against her chest so suddenly she had to very, _very_ carefully set down her empty glass of wine before it tumbled out of her hands. Maybe it was the wine. Surely, she could blame it on the wine. But looking at Ben when he was so focused on something else - something other than her - was doing weird things to her mind. 

She watched as if from a distance as she molded herself to his side and kissed his neck. 

His voice faltered. 

Suddenly desperate to taste him, Rey trailed a line of hot kisses up his neck. Just under his jaw, she laid her tongue flat against his skin and licked him purely because she wanted to. 

Ben dropped the book.

She barely noticed. Listening to his voice, feeling him pressed against her side, watching his face as expressions flickered across it, as he unconsciously reacted to the text… It all drove Rey a little crazy. She pulled herself into his lap, straddling his waist, and kissed a spot under his jaw. 

His hands flew to her hips, keeping her still, and his chest heaved once with a great, rolling shudder. 

“Rey,” he said huskily, pressing his forehead to hers. “We - You’ve had a lot to drink.”

She scoffed and slung her arms over his shoulders. “Ben, I’ve had one glass of wine. _One._ ” 

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat when she shifted in his lap. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“ _Please._ There’s no way that’ll happen,” she said with a snort, nibbling along his jaw. 

“You don’t know that,” he said roughly, pressing his mouth to the curve of her neck. Voice muffled, he added, “You don’t know all the things I’ve imagined doing to you.”

Rey shivered at the low warning in his voice. Like if she pushed hard enough, he’d show her precisely what he had in mind. Whatever it was, it sounded _dirty_ , and she was in the mood to push a little.

“Maybe not, but I know you won’t hurt me.” She kissed him on the mouth. “You won’t.”

He shivered and started sucking on her neck, _Dune_ sliding off the bed to the bedroom floor, all but forgotten. Rey tightened her grip on him, molding their bodies together, and sighed happily as Ben went from sucking and biting to kissing her exposed throat. 

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured, big hands gliding to the swell of her ass. He squeezed, and her thighs clenched in response. 

Rey peppered his face with soft, hungry kisses, shifting his attention to her mouth. Their lips met and began to move slowly together, tongues rolling lazily in each other’s mouths. Ben tightened his grip, hugging her to his chest until the pressure was almost too much. Between her legs was a growing hardness that became increasingly difficult to ignore. 

Ben suddenly twisted and placed Rey beneath him on the mattress. Shifting between her legs, he pushed her thighs farther apart and hiked her knees up so they bent over his hips. She realized with a thrill that the position left her completely vulnerable to him. Mouth still latched onto hers, he slowly rolled his hips, and Rey jerked at the friction. 

“Ah - _oh!_ ” she gasped in surprise, as he muffled her exclamations with another rough kiss. Excited, fingers tingling, she pushed her hips up into him and relished his low moan.

“ _Christ_ , Rey,” he said breathlessly, moving a bit quicker now above her. “You are...so…” But he trailed off, grinding hard between her legs.

She moaned and writhed beneath him, gripping his biceps like they were the only things anchoring her to the bed. The friction between her legs was building to a slow-boiling heat in her lower stomach, and it was all she could do to keep it together. Her thoughts were scattered, every sensation overwhelming, and all she knew was that Ben needed to stay with her, stay _just like this_ where she could clutch him close. 

The bed creaked under them as Ben rocked his hips into hers, her shorts riding up and up until they were stretched tight in a bunch at her waist. She could feel the slide of his bare skin on her legs, and the sensation was dizzying. She clutched at the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , I’m going to come,” he murmured against her lips. “I want you to come with me, Rey. Together," he gasped. " _Fuck -_ "

Ben grunted, and then with a sharp inhale, he was thrusting as hard as he could, jolting her up the bed. She ground herself against his cock, faintly annoyed by the layers separating them. Her fingers itched to claw away his clothes until she could grasp him in her hand. _Just imagine,_ she told herself, _what it’ll be like with him_ actually _inside me…_

Oh, god. 

Rey’s orgasm slammed into her - far more intense than any she’d been able to bring on her own. A cry escaped her lips, and another, as her body was flooded with such intense pleasure it set the room to spinning. Ben wasn’t far behind; he convulsed on top of her, body coiling and shuddering with his release. Even with their clothes separating skin-from-skin, Rey could still feel the faint twitch of his cock as come spurted from his tip. 

“Oh my god,” Rey gasped, over and over again, eyes unfocused. “Oh my... _god_.” 

“I love you,” he said mindlessly, burying his face in her neck. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Rey pulled their foreheads together again and closed her eyes, feeling his hot breath on her face, heart beating through his chest to match the rhythm of her own. Her eyes drifted closed, but she stayed wrapped around his body despite her exhaustion. _Need you, Ben,_ she thought drowsily. _Need you, need you, need you._

It was only when Ben murmured a sleepy, “Need you too,” that she realized she’d been speaking these thoughts aloud. Maybe it should’ve embarrassed her, but instead a tight burning unspooled in her chest. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it was very _new_. 

Ben heaved against her one final time, their hips slotting together, before collapsing. He braced just enough weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her, for which Rey was thankful; her body was completely boneless and likely couldn’t support a kitten, let alone an overgrown adult male. 

She nestled her face in the curve of his neck and hummed happily. Safe, warm, and sated, she was on her way to sleep when Ben cursed softly under his breath and shifted on top of her. 

“What’s wrong?” she murmured sleepily.

“I’m… I can’t believe I did that,” he whispered, sounding mortified. Lifting himself above her, he added, “ _Fuck_. I’m -”

“Ben?” Rey peered up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. What was he talking about? 

“I fucking _dry-humped_ you,” he went on, like he hadn’t heard her at all. “Like a fucking _animal_.” He sounded appalled, which woke her straight up. 

“ _No_ ,” she said fiercely, yanking him back as he tried to move away. She wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring him to the bed. “You’re not allowed to freak out right now. Ben, I _liked_ it.”

“I didn’t even _ask_ if -”

Rey sighed and grabbed his chin. With a hard kiss, she kept her mouth on his until his muscles went lax. With a slick pop, saliva dangling between their mouths, she drew back and glared.

“ _I liked it_ ,” she repeated firmly. “Don’t overthink this, Ben. I really, _really_ liked it.” 

His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. “Have I ever told you I lose my mind when I’m around you?”

“At least twice already,” she confirmed calmly. 

He sighed, but a small smile edged the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. Shit. I’m overanalyzing.”

“Isn’t that my area of expertise?” she said lightly, running her fingers through his hair. He lowered himself until his weight sank them both into the mattress. 

“I guess you need to share now,” he mumbled, trailing his tongue along her collarbone. It was wet and sticky and so _hot_. “I want you to be safe, Rey, and sometimes…maybe I go a little overboard.”

This was a big admittance on his part, so she answered honestly and with the seriousness it deserved. “Sometimes you do, but I’ll always let you know if it’s too much.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she whispered, and clutched him tight as he rolled them on their sides. 

She shifted her leg out from under him so he wouldn’t crush it, and he adjusted her other leg, guiding her thigh up over his hip. His cock was still relatively hard, and it nestled right between her legs at an angle that was _deeply_ distracting. 

But she was completely exhausted, and she saw that Ben’s eyes were already closed. 

_We have time,_ she told herself. _He’s not going anywhere._ They were trapped in his house for another five days. More than enough time to...well, explore _this_ , whatever it was. 

Rey couldn’t help but wonder if their proximity had anything to do with their current circumstances. Not that she doubted Ben’s affections at this point, but who was to say he’d still feel like this once the world returned to normal? Once she packed up her things and went back to her actual home? Maybe he’d realize they were better as friends. Not besties with benefits. Just...friends. 

_I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’m overthinking. Christ, what a pair we make._

Rey closed her eyes and tucked her head under Ben’s chin, breathing in the familiar smell of his skin and laundry detergent. Her heart rate, which had begun to skyrocket, immediately slowed to a more sustainable rhythm. 

She practiced her breathing exercises until sleep finally claimed her an hour later.

——————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

****  


** DAY TEN---part I **

There were few things in life as unfair as mental illness. People talked about how every facet of their personalities, every job they’d ever held, every relationship they’d had and event they’d attended was affected in some way by their illness. Maybe it was an overpowering sense of fear, or a panic attack. Maybe it was obsessive compulsions or intrusive thoughts. Maybe it was self-sabotage or dissociation. Regardless, mental illness could make or break you. It was a rare person who could remain unaffected.

Yeah, there were few things in life as unfair as mental illness, but Rey knew of at least one that was worse: _multiple_ mental illnesses. 

She stared out the bedroom window, the blinds parted just enough so she could see that it was _still_ gloomy, _still_ dark-skied, and _still_ raining. Today, she knew, was a depression day. The weather had little to do with her mood, but it certainly didn’t help.

Depression was yet another side effect of her trauma, but when she was so deeply mired in it like she was now, it seemed like the whole world. Like everything came back to the dreaded weight on her chest, the tired ache in her limbs, the dimmed and inexplicable sense of hopelessness that pervaded every cell in her body. Her head knew that this too would pass, but her heart knew a conflicting thing, and that was that everything was terrible and dark and useless. 

Rey shut her eyes as a flash of lightning split the clouds. Counting silently, she made it to six before thunder rumbled ominously. A few minutes ago the distance between the two was a count of ten. The storm was getting closer. 

Beside her, Ben mumbled and rolled over in bed, the mattress adjusting to the shift in weight. If she had the capacity to worry, she would be a ball of nerves right now. There was only so much a person could take before they got fed up. It was unfair of her to expect Ben to coach her through a PTSD episode _and_ soothe her daily worries _and_ coax her out of a depression. That was asking too much. Rey had always felt like a burden, but never more so when Ben dropped everything for her and she did nothing to reciprocate. 

Under the covers, Ben’s hand found her waist, and he tugged her gently on her back. His lips found her neck, and he started kissing her again, still half-asleep. 

“Good morning, Reybear,” he murmured, caressing her bare skin. 

“Hi,” she whispered back, keeping her voice low. He deserved a few more minutes of peace, at least, before she ruined his day.

 _That’s not you speaking,_ a soft voice informed her. _That’s the depression. Don’t let it control you._

Easier said - or thought - than done. 

Ben nuzzled her throat and kissed her playfully, but when she didn’t respond, he raised his head, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was low and soft, warm and liquid like syrup. 

She shook her head. At least when she got like this there was never any worry she’d start crying. The world went numb and slightly out-of-focus, like she was watching things play out from a parallel, but very separate, dimension. 

“Tell me.”

Rey rolled her lips together and stared up at the white ceiling. _Don’t make a big deal of this._ That was the last thing she wanted. This heavy, dark feeling would fade on its own. Like all things, it would just take time. 

“Just feeling a little off today,” she whispered. “Sad and...tired.”

Ben watched her face intensely. “Okay.” He inhaled. “What can I do?”

She turned her head on the pillow and smiled slightly. “Nothing. And I’m not just saying that. Sometimes this happens. I just have to...deal with it.”

He bit his lip, and for a second she was overcome with the desire to do the same. But then the emotion faded, like they always did, and she was left with an empty, numb vacuum. 

“Seriously,” she said, pitching her voice to be heard over a loud crash of thunder. “I’m going to sleep it off, I think.” 

Ben didn’t say anything for a long time. They lay silently side by side, listening to the rain and thunder, an occasional spike of lightning illuminating his bedroom. Rey licked her lips and wondered what time it was, then decided just as quickly that it didn’t matter. She’d been up for hours already, and it would be a long, long day ahead of her if she started counting the minutes, too. 

“I’ll make us some breakfast,” Ben rasped, and very gently kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, trying to convey with a subtle head tilt that she wanted him, even like this. 

“Be right back,” he promised. She listened to the sound of the bed shifting, his feet treading across the bedroom, and then the heart-wrenching sound of him getting farther and farther away from her. 

She opened her eyes minutes or hours later. Ben wasn’t back yet, which meant he’d deserted her or hadn’t yet finished cooking the bacon. Could go either way, she supposed.

Thunder continued to boom outside, so close now it shook the townhouse. Rey sucked in a breath through her nose and reached blindly for the bedside table. Her phone was charging, and she hoped the battery was full because she had a lot of research to do and more than enough time to do it.

She opened a new tab and typed in _psychologists near me_. This, of course, provided her with hundreds of results. She spent some time going through the first few pages, bookmarking certain names and websites that looked promising. Next, she curled on her side and typed in _doctors near me_. It was frustrating; she wanted to bypass this step, but in America many psychologists wouldn’t see you unless you had a referral from a primary care physician. Rey didn’t know how long the whole process would take, but she knew it needed to happen. 

Ben had suggested it initially, forced her to confront the fact that she had these issues and that they wouldn’t go away on their own. Of course, the idea had been lurking in the back of her mind for months. It had always been too easy to ignore the worsening signs. Usually she managed just fine. Usually. But maybe that was a lie she told herself to get through the day. 

Maybe the lie wasn’t working anymore.

At some point Ben slid back into the room, sleek wooden breakfast tray in hand. He set it between them on the bed, and Rey quickly closed her web browser. When she made decisions like this, she always liked to analyze them from every angle before bringing someone else into the fold. Her mind ran in very particular patterns, followed a strict line of thinking, and even with the best of intentions Ben could interrupt them and inadvertantly set the whole thing off-course. 

There was bacon and eggs and toast and butter and jam. Scrambled eggs, her favorite, and the choice of strawberry or peach jam. Rey scooted up into the mountain of pillows smushed against the headboard and quickly snagged a piece of toast.

“Work soon?” she asked.

He nodded and grasped a metal fork. “In twenty minutes.”

It was _very_ early, then. Which meant she hadn’t really slept at all. Today truly was going to be miserable. 

They ate in silence, Rey keeping a close eye on the food, Ben keeping a close eye on her. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, but she knew he was only looking out for her, so she wasn’t self-conscious about stuffing her face. 

Twenty minutes passed, and Ben rose from the bed with a sigh. He disappeared into his large walk-in closet, and Rey’s eyes drifted to the far corner where her stockpile was hidden. Hmm. Maybe she’d mess with that today, if her mind could convince her body to be productive. 

Ben walked out a minute or so later, wearing a dark gray sweater and black slacks, running a hand through his long black hair. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, mouth going abruptly dry. She still couldn’t believe there was a world in which she was Ben’s girlfriend, and she couldn’t believe it was _this_ world. 

He leaned over and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. “Do you need anything before I go?”

She shook her head, nibbling on a crispy piece of bacon, swaddled in blankets. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I’ll be right next door, sweetheart.”

She smiled, which seemed to put him at ease. Ben left, and she could hear the sound of the study door opening as he prepared for his daily early-morning Zoom meeting. But he didn’t close it again, which meant he anticipated having to check in on her. It was endearing, but also kind of upsetting; he should be focused on his work, not on whether or not she’d need more coddling. 

With a steadying breath, Rey slid the empty breakfast tray to the vacant side of the bed and reopened her browser tabs. _Doctors near me._ Right. 

It was exhausting and annoying and pretty much the last thing she wanted to do - right up there next to running a marathon in the pouring rain while wearing cinder-blocks for shoes - but Rey spent the next two hours conducting research. Physicians, psychologists, medications, therapies, breathing exercises, beginner yoga instructional videos, and even a handful of YouTube channels that focused on mental health and recovery. She was determined to go through with it this time - she was determined to get _help_ \- but even so, the depression was impossible to ignore, and eventually she set her phone back on the bedside table and burrowed under the covers. 

She slept through lunch and woke sometime in late afternoon. With a yawn and a full-body stretch, Rey wrapped the dark blue duvet around her shoulders and wandered from the bedroom. The breakfast tray was gone, which meant Ben had checked in on her at least once, but when she teetered into the study room’s doorway, she was surprised to see all the monitors were either black or closed down. 

Her eyes sought the digital clock on his massive oak desk. Three-thirty. She frowned. His workday wasn’t over yet. 

Suspicious, she lumbered over to the desk, eyeing the computers and other do-dads like they might jump up and bite her. But when she rested the back of her hand on the closed lid of his laptop, her suspicions were confirmed: Ben hadn’t been in here for a while. The laptop was cold. 

Humming, Rey meandered down the staircase, peering down into the living room. Empty. Which left - Nope. She stood in the kitchen doorway. That was empty too. Trying to ignore the first tendrils of panic curling at the edges of her mind, she checked the bathroom and backyard. No Ben. That meant - 

The basement. She suppressed a shudder. It was probably cold and dank and miserable, and even though the door was closed, her mind wouldn’t allow her to bypass it until she checked the room thoroughly. 

So, with a sigh and a tightening of the duvet around her shoulders, Rey descended the creaky stairs until her feet met cold cement. Her socks provided little cover against the chill, and she tip-toed to the center of the basement, nervously clutching at the blanket. 

“Ben?” Her voice echoed back to her, soft and alone. 

The invisible weight on her chest grew heavier by the second. Her eyes gazed unseeing at the basement walls. She’d checked every room, upstairs _and_ down. He wasn’t in his office, so he wasn’t working. He wasn’t in the kitchen, so he wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t in the living room, so he wasn’t taking a break.

He wasn’t in the house, _so where was he?_

Frantic now, Rey surged up the stairs and scanned the counters and front of the fridge. No note. Maybe the coffee table…? Nope, nothing there, either. Rey took a deep breath, bringing up visuals of the breathing exercises she’d read online. Inhale for eight seconds, hold for three, exhale for seven. Repeat. 

She stood uncertainly in the center of the living room, running a hand nervously across her mouth. What if he was hurt? The thought rang like a bell in her mind, clanging and discordant. What if he had gone out and slipped on a slick piece of stone? What if, somehow, he’d been struck by lightning? It was improbable but not _impossible._ She had to consider every scenario. 

Another thought wormed its way past all her other concerns, all her other theories and worst-case scenarios: What if Ben had left? Just...left? No warning, no note, no goodbye or see you later or now’s not a good time. What if he’d decided that being a full-time caretaker really was asking too much? 

_Oh god, oh god. Have I driven him out of his own house? All this time, has he been desperate to get away from me?_

She wasn’t sure which was worse: the idea that he was injured somewhere and unable to get help, or the possibility that all her fears were valid and he’d chosen to leave her behind? 

Wait. Her eyes flew to the window. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier? If his truck was gone from the driveway, at least she’d know he really had gone somewhere else. 

But before she could even take a single step towards the window, the doorknob rattled. Her heart lurched in her chest as the front door swung wide open and Ben’s huge silhouette filled the frame. He was dripping wet, soaked to the bone, and when he shoved his hood back she could see the breath puffing from his lips.

His mouth formed her name, and she stumbled forward a step. Then he lifted the bundle in his arms, drawing her eyes downward, and she gasped. 

“Surprise,” he said softly. 

Rey fell to her knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i've always loved writing cliffhangers & i realized this story is sorely lacking them??? heheh**
> 
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	13. That's No Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are some lighthearted fluffy moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **kudos to those who guessed the surprise correctly😌 i tried to be subtle but alas i am v transparent**
> 
> **thanks to those who continually comment after every chapter, y'all are the best! 💕💕**

** DAY TEN---part II **

The bundle mewled and gazed out at her through tiny emerald green eyes.

“Oh my god!” Rey cried, clapping her hands over her mouth, tears immediately gathering. “Ben!”

He grinned and set the kitten down on the carpet. It teetered forward on wobbly legs, fur light gray and baby-soft. She watched, utterly captivated, as it laid belly-down and meowed again, ears perked up curiously. 

Rey realized she was laughing. “What-- _where_ did you find…?”

“Him,” Ben supplied, gently closing the front door and shucking off his soaked jacket. “I stopped by the local shelter.”

She scooted closer to the kitten on her knees but stopped when it meowed nervously and shifted back a few inches. The tiny thing had a gouge in its left ear, a missing chunk of skin and fur. Rey’s heart melted. 

“Does he have a name?”

Ben crouched down next to the kitten, who surged to its feet and attached itself to his sneaker. “Not yet.”

A name flickered through her mind-- _Dyad_. The word represented a pivotal plot point in the space wizard movies she and Ben had watched earlier in quarantine. It meant, in its most basic definition, _soulbond_. 

Her eyes remained riveted to the kitty as it nipped at Ben’s shoe, rolling and somersaulting like his Nike was the greatest adversary the cat had ever known. Its tiny feet pedaled the air, and when it caught her watching, it blinked its huge green eyes. 

Rey fell utterly and completely in love.

“Dyad,” she whispered, and his ears perked. 

“I like it,” Ben rumbled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t startle the kitten, she supposed. The cat twitched again, baby nose wrinkling.

“So does he, I think,” Rey said with a big grin. She refocused on Ben, suddenly nervous. Maybe she should’ve asked first. “Are we… Is this…”

“He’s ours,” Ben confirmed softly. 

Tears threatened to boil over, but Rey sniffed them back. She didn’t want to cry, even if they were happy tears. “But why?”

He looked surprised. “For you, of course.”

She swallowed and shuffled closer to them both. Dyad kept his eyes on her, but he seemed very taken with Ben’s shoe. Her fingers itched to pet him, but Rey restrained herself. She knew what it was like to be touched without consent. 

“Are you sure?” she whispered. He had always seemed so exasperated whenever she brought up adopting. Maybe because he assumed he’d be saddled with and burdened by a pet. But of _course_ she would take ownership. 

“Rey.” Ben laughed and very carefully disentangled Dyad from his shoe laces. “I am _completely_ sure. I would buy a hundred cats just to see you smile.”

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, aren’t you?” Her cheeks pinked when she realized it was the very first time she’d referred to him as her _boyfriend_. Out loud, anyway. 

Ben’s eyes softened. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

Dyad meowed pitifully, drawing Rey’s attention. The cat had released his chokehold on Ben’s shoe and wandered over to sit in front of Rey. Now he was staring up at her expectantly. 

“Um, I think someone’s hungry?” Tentatively, she reached out, pausing as the kitten sniffed her hands. Evidently approving of her scent, Dyad allowed her to pick him up. Rey cradled the bundle of fur in her arms like she would a newborn. 

“How old is he?” she asked, rising slowly to her feet. The giant blue comforter was still perched on her shoulders like a massive cape. 

“Roughly five months.” Ben followed her into the kitchen. 

Rey cuddled Dyad close to her face, leaning her cheek on the top of his downy-soft head. “What do we feed him? He’s so young, I don’t—“

Ben’s hand slid to the back of her neck and squeezed reassuringly. “Don’t worry about a thing. I received a very comprehensive lecture on cat care at the shelter. And,” he added, retreating to the foyer, “I picked up some things.” 

_Some things_ turned out to be three big bags of specialty cat food, a litter box, a star-patterned leash and matching harness, a cat-carrier the size of a suitcase, and at least ten toys. Rey was just as intrigued with the toys as Dyad; she held the kitten in one hand and shuffled through the plushy pile with the other. Squeakers and tinkling balls and feathery sticks and yarn—

She laughed. “You really bought _yarn_? Like we don’t already have a hundred skeins of the stuff?”

Ben simply stared at her, and she flushed. 

“What?” she demanded. “Is your precious cashmere yarn _that_ important?”

A smile curved his lips, and he shook his head. “I’m just impressed you remembered _skeins_ instead of _skins_.” 

She rolled her eyes and picked up a small polka-dotted bowl. “My memory’s not _that_ shitty, thank you very much.”

He kissed the crown of her head and tore open a bag of cat food. “Nothing about you is shitty,” he said, carefully dumping food into the proffered bowl.

Rey gave him a look. 

He sighed. “Don’t—“

“Do you really want me to make that joke? Because you know I absolutely will.” 

“Please don’t,” Ben groaned, shaking his head. 

“You walked right into that one,” she muttered, grinning when he turned away. He was so fun—and _easy_ —to tease. 

Dyad meowed, paws pedaling excitedly in the air, and Rey set him down by the food bowl so he could devour the dry pebbles to his little heart’s content. She gazed down at the kitten for a moment, overwhelmed. She’d always wanted a pet of her own, but of course that had been next to impossible for someone like her. No permanency meant no pets.

When Ben finished stacking the cat food in one of the cabinets and turned back, she threw her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. 

“Thank you so much, Ben,” she said. “This is the _best_ surprise.”

“I’d hoped it would be,” he murmured, holding her by the waist. His thumbs stroked idly over her hip bones. “He’s all yours.” 

_And will you be all mine?_ But Rey knew that was a bit of a redundant question. They were...if not dating then at least _together_. And she knew Ben well enough to say with confidence that when he was with someone, he was exclusive. 

They held each other in the kitchen, swaying side to side as Dyad made excited little squeaks as he ate. Rey couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. 

“God, I’ve missed that.”

Rey pulled back and tilted her head. “Missed what?”

He rolled his lips like he was thinking through his answer. “I...uh, didn’t like seeing you so sad. I understand it’s something you have to deal with, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch.”

She nodded silently. Oh, did she know. 

“I wanted to do something,” he said hesitantly. “To cheer you up.”

Rey realized suddenly that he was unsure. Not about the cat—obviously she was over the moon with him. No, Ben wasn’t sure how to handle her when she descended into what she bitterly called the Void. She’d personally never had to care for someone who suffered from depression, so she couldn’t give him any expert advice, but she _could_ tell him ways to help her through it. And that was the important part—that he _helped_. 

Looking into his eyes, she understood with sudden clarity: Ben felt helpless. She imagined this wasn’t a feeling he found easy to deal with, considering what happened to his mother.

Despite everything she’d been through in life, Rey knew with certainty what her love language was: words of affirmation. So she carefully cradled Ben’s face in her hands, stood up on the tips of her toes, and pressed her forehead to his when he bent down to close the gap. 

“Dyad is the best gift I’ve gotten. _Ever_ ,” she breathed, eyes focused directly on his own. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. That you care, and that you're trying.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered, and slowly closed the distance between them.

This kiss was slow and soft and tender. This was a kiss that expressed more than words ever could. This kiss said _Thank you_ and _You mean the world to me_ and also _I don’t know what I’d do without you_. 

They parted, breathing raggedly. Ben’s big hands cupped her waist beneath her shirt, fingers trailing scorching lines of heat as they brushed over her bare skin. Rey laid her head on his chest, her arms tight around his midsection, and allowed the steady beat of his heart to fill her up. Not make her whole, but maybe...stitch together all the broken pieces. 

Something in Rey’s mind trembled, and she fought against it. She wasn’t ready for whatever monumental shift wanted to take place. Not now. Not yet. 

“Maybe we should—“

But a loud, crackling _boom_ shook the very air, and Dyad let out a panicked mewl. 

Ben’s arms tightened protectively the instant before she pulled out of his grasp, her head whipping to the windows. Outside, high up in the sky, were fading remnants of yellow and orange sparks. Rey gasped and ran to the window. Something nameless thrilled through her. 

“Rey—“ Ben started, his voice tight with alarm. 

A staggered sizzle, another _boom_ , and then the sky lit up with blues and greens. 

Rey shrieked. “Fireworks!” 

Dyad meowed pitifully right by her elbow, and when she turned, Ben was there, the cat tucked in the palm of his hand. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders and gently but firmly moved her back.

“Please get away from the window, Rey.”

“No, no! Ben,” she said, torn between soothing Dyad and staring at the sky, “it’s _fine_. Look, fireworks!”

“What?” Ben finally seemed to come out of Crisis Mode and glanced out the window.

“Somebody’s setting off fireworks!” Another static, red-and-orange explosion illuminated the evening sky. 

It was bizarre and unexpected and more than a little startling, but Rey was overjoyed. She’d always loved the Fourth of July and New Year’s celebrations—holidays that demanded their fair share of light-shows. Maybe that didn’t fit in with her other PTSD symptoms, but loud noises had never been a trigger for her. Something about the explosion of color, the brief but beautiful spectacle of it all made her want to dance. 

“Huh,” he said then, hunching a bit to see out the window. Dyad squirmed in his grip. “You’re right. That’s...unusual.”

She shrugged. “I guess quarantine is making people stir-crazy.”

Dyad meowed again, obviously irritated about being separated from his food. With a sigh, Ben set him down, and the kitten raced back into the kitchen. Apparently he was unimpressed by the display, but _Rey_ , in turn, was impressed by his indifference. She’d never met an animal that didn’t instinctively freak at the sound of fireworks. 

“Can we watch?” she asked, clasping her hands. This wasn’t Disney World, sure, but for now it would do. 

“Ah…” Ben looked torn. “Don’t you want to play with Dyad?”

She rolled her eyes. “Ben. C’mon. _Obviously_ I’ll take him with us.”

“And where exactly are we going?” He followed her as she ran from the living room and up the stairs, duvet flapping around her shoulders like wings. 

“This place doesn’t have a roof or anything, does it?” 

“Unfortunately, townhouses are not built with such amenities,” he said flatly. 

In the hallway, she spun back, planting her hands on her hips. “Don’t be like that! You know what I mean. A roof you can climb on to, I don’t know, gaze at the stars?”

He wordlessly shook his head, so Rey blew into her old room— _the guest room_ , she reminded herself, _and I’m not a guest_ —and smiled.

“We’ll sit there,” she announced, pointing at the window seat. It was big enough for the two of them—barely—and provided an unobstructed view of the sky. Good thing Ben’s townhouse was on the end of the row.

“Are you sure?” 

“Am I sure of what?” Rey shuffled over to the window seat, quickly flinging the duvet off her shoulders so it covered the cushion instead. “We can hang out here, maybe—“ She gasped. “—drink some _wine_ , and watch the fireworks. Now tell me that doesn’t sound amazing.”

Ben, for his part, seemed unmoved. “If you want.”

Rey frowned. “What, you don’t want to?” She had to be honest; he was dimming her enthusiasm just a smidge.

“No, no, I do,” he insisted, but she could tell something was off. 

She tilted her head, examined his face for several long beats, and said, “Are you upset I’m not still excited about Dyad?”

He blinked, obviously taken aback, and Rey nodded to herself. _Go, me! Got it in one shot._

But wait. He was _upset_. She shouldn’t be happy about that. 

“Ben,” she sighed, grabbing his hands. “Listen. Not to be dramatic, but the day started off like a nightmare. It was rainy and stormy and dark, and I was struggling to find the motivation to get out of bed, and yada yada yada.” She beamed up at him. “But then you come home with an adorable baby kitten because you just wanted to see me smile, and then some rando in the neighborhood next to us decides to set off some _very_ illegal fireworks during a quarantine that has been, for lack of a better phrase, fucking _mind-numbing_. But finally, in one day, we have some excitement!”

The creases around Ben’s eyes seemed to soften. “Mind-numbing, you say?”

She blushed. “Well, maybe not the _whole_ time…”

Ben squeezed her hands and kissed the crown of her head. “You’re right. I’m being selfish. I like seeing you happy, but, uh…” He awkwardly cleared his throat. “I also like being the one who _makes_ you happy.” 

“That’s not selfish,” she murmured, face pressed to his sweater. “That’s just human nature.”

He hummed. “Go get Dyad so we can watch. I’ll grab some pillows.”

With a grin, Rey raced downstairs, where she found Dyad curiously examining a ball of expensive yarn. Hey, it was _her_ mind—she could call it a ball if she wanted to! The cat was batting it experimentally.

“Oh, you _really_ don’t wanna mess with that,” she said, lifting Dyad into her arms. 

He mewled, squinting his big eyes with what seemed like admonishment but was probably just her projecting. Rey raced towards the stairs, then doubled back for a chilled bottle of sangria. 

Upstairs, Ben had arranged some pillows from his mountainous bedroom pile to the window seat. The cushion and duvet were padding enough, and he had also lifted up all the windows so a cool breeze rushed through the room. Rey handed Dyad and the sangria bottle over to Ben so she could pull on a sweater. 

“Bravo! This is a spectacular arrangement that may—just _may_ —rival my blanket fort from last night.” 

“High praise indeed,” he teased, stroking Dyad’s head with a finger. She tried—unsuccessfully—not to be jealous. “Now hurry, before the cops shut it down.”

“Okay, okay!” Rey settled into the window seat, crossing her legs and squishing herself into one corner so Ben had as much room as he needed. Dyad practically leaped into her outstretched hands, and she gave Ben a smug look.

“Ah, how fleeting his affections.”

Ben huffed and rolled his eyes, perching one knee on the cushion. “You’ve won him over. I can’t imagine how.” 

She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Careful there, Solo.”

His eyes burned bright, but she merely smiled and cast her gaze out the window. Several blocks over, fireworks zipped into the air with a static crackle and exploded loud enough to wake any grannies with decent hearing and an eight o’clock bedtime. 

“Interesting,” she murmured, unscrewing the sangria and taking a small sip. 

“What’s that?” Ben was playing with a loose thread on her sweater. Belatedly, she realized it was his old, patchy black one from earlier in the week. The sweater she had, somehow, managed to grab a second time. 

“The yellow fireworks sound different to me,” she said, watching the way sparks seemed to rain from the sky like shooting stars. “Maybe they’re another...brand. Do fireworks have brands?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, tugging on the sweater like he wanted to drag her closer.

She laughed self-consciously. What was she _saying_? “Or I could just be talking nonsense. Far more likely.” 

To her surprise, Ben adamantly shook his head. “Don’t say that. There’ve been studies about sound and color and the connection between the two. Maybe,” he continued, watching Dyad cuddle her palm, “you’re more attuned to yellow than to other colors.”

She stared at him, surprised. “That sounds very much like an astrology theory, which is _very_ un-Ben-like.”

He scratched his chin. “Does it? I didn’t realize astrology had enough depth to have theories.”

She harrumphed. “Don’t be a hater.” Not that she was at all invested in or knowledgeable about astrology, but there was no need to bash it when people lived their lives by it.

“Right again,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I’m having an off day, I think.”

 _You and me both._ But Ben had significantly improved _her_ day. Shouldn't she return the favor? She glanced out the window, then down at her kitten, shifting nervously. 

“Um, want to talk about it?”

Ben swallowed and stared at her through the deepening gloom. “I’m not sure how…” He trailed off. “Not now.”

“Okay,” she said softly. She respected that.

He breathed a heavy sigh through his nose. “Tell me some good news.”

“Oh!” She straightened in her seat, momentarily ignoring the light-show happening outside. “Believe it or not, I do have news. I might even call it... _good_ news.” 

He pretended to faint with shock, which made her laugh. “ _Do_ tell.” 

Rey shifted and took a deep breath to steel herself. “So I did some research. For a doctor. And...I found one.” 

“A doctor?” Ben’s eyes flickered, though he didn’t react. “For your—“

“Mental health, yeah,” she said, a bit breathlessly, like she’d just finished a race. 

_The doctor_ was a woman in her mid-fifties with enough certifications to fill an entire wall. Rey’s insurance was decent, but she’d pay whatever it took to see her. After some intense background research, she’d Googled a picture of Dr. Mothma and decided on the spot. Something about accomplished middle-aged women who looked like they could either serve you dessert or politely break your fingers had always put Rey at ease. There were women out there who survived—no, not only that, who _flourished_ \--who were tough and successful and wouldn’t take any shit. She’d sensed this about Dr. Mothma, and Rey always went with her gut. 

“I have to schedule an appointment,” she continued when Ben still didn’t say anything. “But it looks like she has some openings next week.” She twisted her fingers anxiously. “I guess it’s not a huge deal, but like you said...I just hope that—“

Ben closed the distance between them and threw an arm across her back, hugging her tightly to his chest.

“Rey,” he breathed into her hair, “that is fucking _amazing_.”

She smiled, though it wavered. “You think so? I—“

“Sweetheart, I know how difficult it must’ve been to even take these initial steps. I’m…” Ben pulled back and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Dyad meowed, annoyed by all the movement.

She laughed.

“I am _so_ proud of you, Rey.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

Tears stung her eyes. “You are?”

“Yes, yes, and _yes_.” Ben punctuated each _yes_ with another kiss. Cheeks, nose, and one last featherlight brush of his lips over her mouth. “This is... _huge_. Seeking support is the first big obstacle, and once you do that, the journey gets much, much easier. I—“

“Wait,” she said, holding back a laugh. “The _journey_? Have you been reading self-help books or something?”

Even with his long hair covering most of his ears, she could still see the tips as they blushed pink. Her heart melted.

“Ah,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I want to make sure I understand what steps you need to take, so I, uh, read up on a few things online.” He coughed.

“Ben Solo, _willingly_ engaging in non-work-related research? Do my eyes deceive me?” She widened her eyes—the picture of shock. 

He shrugged modestly. “Miracles do happen. Occasionally.” 

She grabbed the back of his neck and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. “You’re my number one line of defense, Ben. My support network for a long time has just been...well, _you_.” 

His face fell slightly. “I wish I could say I’ve done a better job.”

“Are you kidding?” This time Rey didn’t have to fake her offense. “Ben, you’ve drawn me out of my head more times than I can count! Whether you did it knowingly or not, you still did it. You still _helped_ me.” 

He nodded, still looking unconvinced. “I’ll do better now. I _want_ to do better,” he corrected, catching her frown. “For too long I tip-toed around you because I didn’t want to frighten you off or...I don’t know, make your symptoms worse somehow by acknowledging them.” He sighed. “And, I’ll admit, I didn’t understand the extent of it until you came to stay here.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah, I tried to...you know, uh…” But she couldn’t say it. 

“Hide it?” he asked gently. 

Rey kept her eyes on Dyad, who was sleeping, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Obviously now I wish I hadn’t, but that’s just…” _How I’ve always been. Out of sight, out of mind. Pretend that things are fine and I’m a-okay._

Well, not anymore.

“Anyway,” she said, not really wanting to get into the whole I-hid-my-instability-to-convince-myself-things-were-fine conversation. “Can you help me make the appointment? It’s online.” Thank god. She wouldn’t have to talk to anyone directly. Bleh. Certified millennial here, folks. 

Ben nodded and gestured impatiently for her to shift over. “Come here. I don’t like this whole arrangement we have.”

Grinning, Rey stood up and waited for him to adjust himself. He swung his legs on the window seat and pointed firmly between them. “Sit.”

“Oh, yes, let me _jump_ to it.” But of course she clambered into his lap and nestled herself between his legs with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. 

Ben wound his arms around her, Dyad curled snugly in one big palm. She accepted him into her lap, very carefully and very slowly so she didn’t wake him. As gently as they’d behaved towards him, the poor thing was probably traumatized. His life had been completely upended in the span of a few hours. 

Rey could relate to that more than most anyone. 

“What do you think’s going to happen?” she asked finally, leaning her head on Ben's chest. 

“That is a very ambiguous question.”

“With the pandemic, I mean.” An enormous blue firework exploded high above, the boom rattling the windowsill. “It hasn’t been two weeks yet, but things feel...different. I’m not sure how to explain it.”

He inhaled heavily, fingers brushing along her wrists. “I know what you mean. The economic ramifications are obviously incomprehensible, but so are the hordes of people dealing with unemployment and mental health problems. I can’t imagine the trauma that’s going to come out of this.”

“People losing their jobs, not having any income…” She paused, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. This was a bad habit she needed to stop; usually she’d tear off layers of skin, and by the time she realized she was even doing it, her lips would be all gross and pockmarked. 

“Ben?”

“Hmm?” 

“Are you… Is your job okay? I mean, do you think—?”

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Nothing to worry about. My job is secure.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s good.”

Never mind what would happen with _her_ job. She worked in the restaurant industry, which—as they spoke—was currently tanking. And would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. She’d worry about that...at a later date. 

“And yours?” Ben asked mildly.

Ugh. Of _course_ he’d ask, the troublesome man. “Uh, I don’t know. Haven’t heard from them lately. I don’t think they called or texted me.”

“You don’t _think_?”

Rey cringed. “Well, I haven’t exactly been checking my phone all that much.” She’d used it earlier in the day to conduct her research, but she’d ignored all the messages and emails. Nobody had called though, which was...well, that could go either way, she supposed. 

Ben groaned and slid his hands up her arms. “What will it take for you to stay in contact with people? Hm? Will I have to duct-tape your phone to your hand?”

“No…” She really was bad at communicating though. For most of her life she’d never needed to _check in_ or let someone know where she was and if she was okay. It wasn’t a priority.

Ben’s hands slid to her shoulders. “ _Please_ check it religiously, Rey. Also,” he said wearily, “maybe you shouldn’t tell me these things. I worry enough about you as it is.”

“ _Religiously?_ ”

She imagined him rolling his eyes, which made her smile.

“Yes, Rey,” he said dryly. “I’m glad that’s what you got out of that.”

She snorted. 

“In all seriousness,” he continued softly, cupping her shoulders, “everything’s going to be fine for us. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’ll take care of me?” Rey wanted to sound teasing or maybe offhand, but instead her voice came out small. 

Ben leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. “Always.” 

She suppressed a smile that might very well break her face in half. The fireworks display was tapering off. Clearly a nosy neighbor or “concerned” citizen had called the cops. Now there were only a few sporadic sizzles of light—nothing like the massive bursts from earlier. The two of them watched in silence as the last firework faded from the night sky. 

In her lap, Dyad snoozed peacefully. He was curled up in a little round ball, his gray fur easily mistaking him for a disproportionately-sized dustball. This would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been so heart-wrenching. 

Rey’s throat and chest were tight, strangely, her heart almost...sore, in a way. This was a feeling she was pretty sure she'd never experienced—ever. She was so _full_. Like she’d just finished a huge, satisfying meal, except that her stomach was fine. It was her heart that seemed combustible.

“Look at the three of us,” she murmured, pouting her lips as Dyad blinked sleepily up at her. “All cozy and warm.”

“Like a little family,” Ben said quietly.

Her eyes cut sharply to him over her shoulder. He watched her steadily. It did things to her chest—both the word and his look. More fullness, more aching, more...just _more._

_Family._

She closed her eyes and kissed him on the mouth again before the tears could escape. Today was apparently a day for almost-crying. Ben snaked a hand to the back of her neck and kept them pressed together for a long, long time. 

_Family. We're like a family._

And all at once, she knew this feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **you'll notice i extended this fic by one chapter oops 🙈**
> 
> say hi!!  
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	14. The Belonging You Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey & Ben have some Big Revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **apologies for the late chap!! 🙈 ive only been in the mood to write smut, so my attention has wandered to other fics oops**
> 
> **TW: very brief mention of vomiting**

**DAY ELEVEN**

“Okay, new idea!” Frazzled, Rey waved her hands wildly. “What if the blog was set to resemble a spaceship? Lots of—“

“What now?”

Rey huffed. “Finn, _please_ let me finish.” When no more interruptions were immediately forthcoming, she continued. “You know what the inside of a spaceship looks like, right? All white and black and gray with random red buttons that, like, you should probably never press?”

“Keyword being _probably_.” On-screen, Finn leaned casually back in his chair, arms folded, expression smug like that of a superior who’d just reminded his subordinate that he was, in fact, quite smart.

“Ahem.” Rey glared. “ _Anyway,_ the website can have that same color scheme. And anyone who visits the site can tell right away what kind of blog it is since spacecraft is such a staple of the sci-fi genre.”

Finn hummed thoughtfully. “I get what you’re saying—“

Rey pinched the bridge of her nose. “ _Please_ don’t say something annoying. _Please_ don’t say—” 

“— _but_ I think you should reconsider the alternative. Think of all the possibilities—“

“Finn!” She put her head in her hands. “For the last time, _Pokemon_ has nothing to do with sci-fi! It has nothing to do with _anything_!”

He was instantly defensive. “Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

“Can we just stay on topic? Is that really too much to ask here?” 

Rey had woken that morning feeling invigorated. She was on a productivity kick—doctor’s appointments, kitty care, smoochy times with Ben—and she wanted to expand on it. So she’d decided to begin designing her sci-fi blog. The one that didn’t exist yet but had quite a few ideas, the first of which would be an extensive examination of the space wizard movie trilogy. 

Finn, she had _erroneously_ concluded, would be a major help since he played so many sci-fi video games in his free time. Plus, Poe was an avid World of Warcraft fan who owned, like, at least forty books about the game. 

And yet—

“It’s not too much to ask,” her friend was saying, “but maybe you could focus on a theme that’s easily recognizable—“

“ _Spaceships_ aren’t easily recognizable?!”

“Not as much as _Pokemon_!” 

They were shouting now. Rey wanted to bang her head on Ben’s desk. She refrained.

“Listen,” Rey started, holding up a finger. “This is all beside the point. I’m looking for a good sci-fi aesthetic. So if you don’t like my spaceship theme, and if we disregard Pokemon, which we will because _it doesn’t count_ —“ 

Finn opened his mouth, but when she growled he ducked his head. 

“—then what other ideas do you have? Hm?” She crossed her arms, a mirror image of Finn, and waited. 

He licked his lips and stared somewhere off screen. “Well…”

She raised an eyebrow and tapped her foot.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, not looking at her, “maybe you’re right.” 

“Oh my god—“

“I mean, the whole spaceship aesthetic is very _in_ right now. Modern, minimalist, sexy—“

“Finn, I’m going to kill you!” She thumped her hands on the desk, startling Dyad, who was napping in his little cat bed by the door. “I should’ve just asked Poe to do this with me instead of—“

He made a hurt face and clutched his chest. “You’d have me replaced so easily? And I thought we were _friends_.” 

“I—“

“Honestly, Rey, what do you want from me? I’m trying my best over here, you know.”

Before Rey could respond—with curses and insults, no doubt—a light knock sounded at the open study door. She swiveled in her chair. 

“Sorry!” she squeaked, casting Finn a murderous look. “Were we being too loud?”

“Not at all,” Ben said, although she could tell he was wondering what the hell was going on. “Lunch is almost ready.”

“Right! Give me a few minutes, okay?”

He smiled, nodded to Finn, and disappeared. Dyad sleepily rose and, with a yawn, trailed after him. His little feet pattered down the hallway until she couldn’t hear him anymore. 

Rey breathed through her nose. “I get that you’re trying to be helpful, Finn—“

“ _Trying?_ ”

“ _But_ I think our conversation has just made things more difficult. And I don’t want that," she explained honestly. "This blog venture is supposed to be a fun hobby. I can’t do that when I’m stressed.”

Finn nodded, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, okay. Maybe my input wasn’t _entirely_ helpful.” He thought for a moment. “I can send you some links that talk about the sci-fi genre and what people like to see reviewed.”

“That’s a start,” she said, grinning. “I already have a ton of ideas. I told you Ben and I are reading _Dune_ , right? That should take us at least a month—“

A pang hit her smack in the chest as she realized that the quarantine would likely be over in a month. They would both be returned to their respective lives, and the book, most likely, would be largely forgotten. Unless she pestered Ben about it, and she didn’t want to do that. He was busy enough with work. 

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I want to do chapter-by-chapter reviews of the book. With the new movie adaption coming out next year, I think it’s pretty relevant.”

“Rey.” Her friend leaned close to the screen, his bulk blocking out his bedroom. “You don’t need to convince me of anything. Do whatever makes you happy.” She smiled, but he wasn’t finished. “In fact, you do seem...happier. In general. Less weighed down.” 

She bit her lip. “Do I?”

Finn paused thoughtfully, then peered at her through the screen. In a whisper, he asked, “Are you getting laid?”

Rey squawked and frantically glanced toward the door. Empty. She could hear plates and dishware rattling in the kitchen downstairs. “Be quiet!” she hissed, cheeks burning.

“Oh my god, _are_ you?” he said excitedly. “Is Solo giving you the—“

“Shut up, no, shut up!” Rey waved her hands in a frenzy, tempted to press the END CALL button just to get him to stop. “It’s not like that!”

“Oh?” Finn raised an eyebrow. “But you _are_ dating, right?”

“I mean—“

“He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes…” Rey regretted telling him that little tidbit now. Who knew what Finn would do, armed with such gossip? 

“So it’s not a stretch to imagine you’re engaging in a bit of, shall we say, boinky-boink?”

“ _What the fuck!_ ” she hissed, mortified. “Who even calls it that?!” 

Finn seemed confused. “What, boinky—“

Rey screamed in the back of her throat—not loud enough for Ben to hear, of course. The last thing she needed right now was for him to come racing in. 

“Don’t _ever_ say that word again or I swear to god I will break into your house a la _The Strangers_ and smash _both_ your Switches!” 

Finn gasped, hand over his heart, and a deep voice off screen said, “She’ll do _what_ now?”

Rey groaned and slid a hand over her eyes as Poe came within view. Seriously? She’d wanted to be productive today; how had she ended up here?

“She threatened to—“

“Oh, I heard her,” Poe said, perching a hip on the arm of Finn’s chair. “What were you talking about that incurred such wrath?” 

“I asked if she and Solo had—“

“Finn,” she warned, and the look on her face must’ve genuinely frightened him because he cut off with a gulp.

“I’ll tell you later,” he muttered to his boyfriend, and Rey threw up her hands.

“Well, that’s my cue!” She pointed a finger threateningly at the END CALL button. 

“Aw, but I just got here!” Poe exclaimed. “Tell me honestly: is it me?”

Rey gave him a flat stare. “Whatever gave you that impression.”

Poe grumbled, but thankfully didn’t goad her. She waved goodbye and went to sign off when Finn shouted, “Wait! So _have_ you?”

“NO! GOODBYE!” And she smashed the END CALL button.

Leaning back in the desk chair, she stared at the ceiling and thought, _Not yet_. She itched for it though. Oh boy, did she _itch_. 

Across the hall, her phone chirped. With a grumble she surged out of her chair and went to check her messages. Since yesterday—and this intense bout of productivity that had sprung up in the wake of her depression—Rey had been working steadily through her emails. She still hadn’t checked any messages that may or may not be waiting for her, though, and that made her feel guilty. Not because she necessarily had to answer anyone, but because Ben worried about her inability to use the damn thing to communicate. She needed to prove him wrong. 

She impatiently flicked open to the home screen and was surprised to see five missed text messages. Unusual. Unexpected. Dare she say, even _unfathomable_. Who had her number, anyway? 

Wed 11:34 a.m.  
**ROSE:** it’s Rose from the diner! how’s your quarantine going? 

Rey smiled. Her friend and co-worker always started off her messages by spelling out _exactly_ who she was, even though they’d texted half a dozen times before. She was too cute.

Fri 2:14 p.m.  
**ROSE:** checking in! what’s with the toilet paper thing? how is that...relevant? 

She laughed out loud. _Right?_ What did stockpiling toilet paper have to do with a respiratory virus? The next two texts were random memes and gifs sent over the weekend, but the final message was from four minutes ago.

Tues 12:09 p.m.  
**ROSE:** hey gurl r u getting my messages? hope everything’s ok with u! 💖

Rey’s stomach sank as guilt settled in her chest. All this time Rose had been trying to get in contact with her, and Rey had just blissfully ignored her phone, knowing full well that someone may want to speak to her. She and Rose were what Ben referred to as “work friends.” They seemed to have a lot in common and spent a lot of their overlapping shifts giggling and gossiping, but once she left the diner, Rey usually wiped the girl from her mind. Not for any particular reason—she _liked_ Rose. 

_Maybe I should give her a chance,_ Rey said to herself, staring at the screen. _She’s always reaching out to me, so maybe I should do the same._

It couldn’t hurt. 

Tues 12:18 p.m.  
**REY:** hey, Rose! sry it’s taken me so long to get back to u. I was taking a break from my phone. how r u? 😊

Even though she told herself this was normal—and obviously not unwanted—Rey couldn’t help but fret. _What if she’s weirded out by my explanation? What if she doesn’t believe me? Who goes around without their phone? No one! Maybe she feels obligated to reach out to me. The poor orphan girl with no—_

Rey shut her eyes and took a deep breath. That line of thinking was not only dangerous but untrue. She was practicing her breathing exercises— _inhale for five seconds, exhale for eight_ —when her phone dinged.

Tues 12:23 p.m.  
**ROSE:** hey!!! no big deal, I don’t blame u for wanting a break. im super fucking bored. did u see the memes I sent?

And just like that, all was forgiven. A small, shrunken part of Rey had expected to be chastised, to be told she had responsibilities and other people to consider. She expected punishment. Retribution. But she and Rose exchanged rapidfire texts for the next ten minutes, and there was no further mention of Rey’s absence. 

“Rey!” 

She gasped at the sound of Ben’s voice. _Oh shit, I forgot!_ He was on his lunch break, and they were supposed to be making a cake. Rey quickly bid Rose goodbye before plugging her phone back in so it could finish charging and rushing down to the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked, throwing her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “I was texting Rose and totally forgot that we—“

“You were texting Rose?” Ben kissed the tip of her nose and gently extracted himself so he could set the oven temperature.

“Yeah,” she said, eyeing the neatly arranged line of baking ingredients on the counter. “She messaged me a few times, and I wanted to get back to her so she didn’t worry.”

There was a funny smile on Ben’s lips. She poked him in the ribs.

“What? Are you laughing?” 

“I’m…” He shook his head. “You talk about Rose often. I’m surprised you haven’t hung out with her before.”

Rey shrugged and took a seat at the kitchen table, scarfing down half of an Italian hoagie. Mmm. Extra peppers. “She seems cool. I want to give it a try.”

“Slow down there,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair. “We’re in no rush.”

Her eyes focused on the oven clock. “It’s already half past! Don’t you only get an hour for lunch?”

He shrugged languidly, unconcerned. “I don’t have too much to do this week. I’m sure they won’t mind if I take an extra hour.”

Rey stared at him enviously as she devoured her hoagie. What she wouldn’t give to work somewhere she was valued. The diner wasn’t terrible, but it certainly wasn’t a career option. 

Five minutes later she had all but licked her plate clean. Even though she knew that no one was going to rip away her plate if she didn’t finish in a certain amount of time, she’d found this was a habit nearly impossible to break. 

“Can we bake now?” Rey surged to her feet and examined the row of ingredients. All the brands were facing the same direction, and there was an even amount of space between each one. “I swear, Ben, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you spent some serious time in the military.” 

Ben, who was still eating at a _normal_ pace, raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re just so... _anal_...about this kind of stuff. Or maybe the word I’m looking for is adult.” _Oh god, why did I have to say_ anal _?_ She considered for a moment, silently cringing. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re so _adult_ , Ben.” 

“Well, one of us has to be,” he muttered, and Rey threw a packet of Splenda at his head. 

“ _Hey!_ ” 

“Kidding,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and tossing the Splenda on the table. “I have quite a bit more experience than you, Rey.”

“Ah yes, my _hourly_ reminder that you were born nine years earlier.” Rey rolled her eyes and smirked, turning her attention to the cake recipe. “Thanks for that.” 

“Anytime.” The chair creaked as he stood, and in two strides he was right behind her, pressing her hips into the counter. She gasped softly. 

“Do we have everything we need?” he murmured, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. 

“I think so.” Her hands shook, but thankfully she managed to keep her voice steady. “You’re always very thorough.”

He grunted and placed his hands on the counter to either side of her waist, caging her in. “I aim to be.”

Swallowing back a flutter of nerves, Rey tilted her head so she could see him and poked the corner of his mouth. “Can you get the eggs for me?”

He didn’t move.

She gazed up at him and blinked twice. “Please, Ben?”

He shuddered but moved away, opening the fridge in a swift, controlled movement that told her he was on edge. She wasn’t sure what had pushed him there, but part of her was very eager to find out.

 _Not now_ , she scolded her libido. _Now it’s cake time!_

Rey had decided late last night that she wanted to bake a cake in celebration of Dyad’s adoption. Chocolate cake with cream cheese icing—her favorite. Thankfully they had Postmates in the area, so someone else could pick up the ingredients they were missing and deliver it to their doorstep. No one had to leave the house. 

Plus, she’d thought, it would be nice to spend more quality time with Ben. It wasn’t like they were ever separated, of course, but any reason to be near him was a good one. 

“Thank you,” she chirped as Ben placed the carton of eggs on the counter. One of his hands gently pressed against her lower back while the other scrolled through the recipe on his iPad. 

“Now, who exactly do you suppose will eat this cake?” His expression was carefully disinterested, as if _that_ would fool her. 

Rey twisted her mouth and looked at the ceiling. “Well, I _suppose_ it’ll have to be the both of us, right? Then again, your stomach’s so much bigger than mine. So if we divide it up, I’d say, reasonably, thirty percent me, seventy percent you. If we’re being honest.” 

“That’s asking too much. My stomach isn’t _that_ big.” He handed her the vanilla extract.

“Your stomach is the perfect size,” she said, patting said stomach lightly. “Take one for the team, Ben!” As much as she loved cake, she had experienced one too many times the act of overindulging, which usually resulted in an hour or more of vomiting. 

He grunted and wrapped his arms around her midsection. Rey swallowed and continued adding ingredients until all that was left was to whisk. 

“Ugh,” she grumbled, tapping the sides of the bowl. “ _Whisking._ ” 

Ben placed his chin on her shoulder, his hot breath fanning across her neck and collarbones. “I do have a mixer, you know. If you’re in the mood to make things easier for yourself.”

“Hmm, _am_ I in the mood?” She pretended to consider. Behind her the oven beeped. Perfect timing. She tried to move over to a cabinet across the kitchen, but Ben tightened his grip instead. 

She swiveled in his arms so they were facing each other head-on and gently touched his biceps. “Am I allowed to continue baking?”

“That depends,” he said, eyeing her closely.

“On what, may I ask?” Rey was smiling, but his look made her nervous. It was very...introspective. Like he was evaluating—or maybe _re_ evaluating. 

“Do I have to let you go?” 

“To get the mixer? Um, yes.” 

He touched her cheek, eyes sad. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

Rey’s smile wavered at his expression. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. But she knew that seeing him upset—or on the verge of it—made her unhappy. His smile and laugh were sometimes the only things that got her out of bed in the morning. Ben should _never_ be sad. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to, either,” she admitted quietly. 

A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw, and with careful, deliberate slowness, he closed the gap between them. His hands cupped her waist. Rey watched him unblinkingly. 

_He’s quite handsy today,_ she thought with a thrill. 

“Maybe I want you here with me,” he said in a low voice, eyes dropping to her mouth. 

Rey contained her shudder, but just barely. This was quickly evolving into a double-sided conversation that, she suspected, may be out of her depth. 

“Maybe…” She struggled, staring at a spot on his chin. _Push past the fear._ “Maybe I want that too.”

“Maybe?”

She laughed and ducked her head. “Maybe.” 

Ben tilted her chin up and pressed his lips so very lightly to hers. “Maybe I love you.”

Her breath caught. “Maybe I want you to kiss me again.”

He needed little prompting. With a slowness born of practiced patience, Ben brushed his lips over her mouth. She struggled against the urge to jump him as he licked the seam of her lips. 

“You taste like candy,” he murmured, moving his mouth against hers with a desperate sort of hunger. 

She pressed herself to him, tugging at his collar. His hands flew to her hips, and without breaking their lip-lock he lifted her onto the counter. Even with the added height she was still only nose-to-nose with him. 

Outside, a car horn blared. The oven beeped a second time and was again ignored. 

Rey wound her arms around Ben’s neck, melding their bodies together. This intimacy was new to her. Out of all the things they’d said and done over the past however many days, the closeness they now shared—not just in body but in mind too—stunned her the most. It often seemed impossible that someone else could know her so well, that someone else’s body could fit so perfectly with hers. 

Ben groaned into her mouth and trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck. She whined, rocking her hips forward, and he responded by grinding his— _prodigious,_ it must be noted—bulge against her core. In her mind she imagined them stripping, naked bodies sliding skin-to-skin, mouths streaking soft kisses and hot saliva all over. Rey’s stomach clenched at the fantasy. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him touch her like that. 

Ben’s hands cradled her face as he kissed her on the mouth again and again. “ _Rey._ ”

Her name was a prayer—a benediction—a wish sighed into the wind. Goosebumps covered her whole body like she’d been thrown into the frozen tundra. She opened her eyes and watched him as he kissed her, face soft with an emotion she had no trouble identifying. 

_Love,_ she thought slowly. _That’s what love looks like._

His own eyes were closed, and as she stared at him like this—as he remained unaware and blissfully lost in sensation—Rey realized that something was building in her chest. She recognized it from earlier, even though she’d done her best to ignore it. This feeling threatened to break her apart. 

“I love you,” Ben murmured, pressing a hard kiss to the hollow of her throat. 

Rey shuddered and whispered, “I know.”

She did, now. She did know. 

He grinned into her neck and let his hands roam. They were on her back, under her shirt, gripping her hips, tangled in her hair, brushing the undersides of her breasts. Everywhere, all at once. She was dizzy with his touch, with his mouth on her and his fingers writing secrets on her skin. 

The oven beeped _again_. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Ben groaned, pressing his mouth to her temple. 

Rey laughed breathlessly. She was shaking, she realized distantly. _Why_ was she shaking? 

“One of us should probably get that,” he muttered, kissing along her jaw. Reluctantly, he pulled away, hands trailing over her hips and across her thighs as he crossed to the oven. 

She swallowed and slid off the counter, her hands bunching into little fists. _Keep cool,_ she implored herself. _I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but for the love of Pete, keep cool._

With deft movements, Ben cracked two eggs into the ceramic bowl and mixed the ingredients. He slid the batter into the oven and set the timer for an hour. Rey watched all this with eyes that were too large. Her hyper-vigilance, which usually ran on autopilot in the background, reared to the forefront and began filing away every single thing she saw, heard, and smelled. It would’ve been overpowering if she weren’t so fixated on Ben. 

Her boyfriend was cleaning off the counter, saying something about the weekend. Rey didn’t understand and wasn’t going to try. In her head, there was...an upset. Like an earthquake, or maybe a hurricane. Definitely a natural disaster, compacted to bite-sized proportions that filled all the space in her head.

Her eyes were drawn to the window over the kitchen sink. No rain today. No storm clouds, either, and it was late enough in the day that the temperature had cooled. Rey realized with a start that just because they were living in a quarantine didn’t mean she couldn’t still leave when she absolutely needed to. 

And right now that’s exactly what she needed. 

“Why don’t we read more of _Dune_ before I go back to work?” Ben said, absentmindedly reaching for her. 

“I—“ _Don’t ask for permission. Just go._ “I’m going for a walk,” she blurted. 

Ben blinked, his hand falling to his side. “What? Now?”

She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yes. I’m—I need fresh air.”

The alarm in his eyes was instantaneous. “Are you okay? Do you need me to—”

She shook her head quickly. “No, everything’s fine. I’m— My head is crowded right now. I just need to…” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the door. "This time is different, I swear."

Ben’s jaw worked as he stared at her. She could tell he was struggling for an appropriate response. 

“I promise I’m okay,” she said softly, stepping close so she could cup his cheeks. He nestled his chin in her palms, even as his eyes watched her warily. “I’ll only be gone a little while.”

Her skin itched. She needed to get out of here soon or she might combust, and that would be bad for too many reasons. She was too confused to treat this situation with the delicacy it deserved. 

Ben gently touched a wayward piece of hair and admitted, “I don’t want to let you go.”

Her heart clenched. He could very well keep her here; she imagined him lifting her around the waist and dragging her into his bedroom, closing and locking the door. He would dump her on the bed and refuse to let her out of his sight. Maybe this was so easy to imagine because a very large part of her _wanted_ it. 

Rey tugged lightly on his shirt, bunching the material in one fist. “I need to go, Ben.”

His throat bobbed heavily as he swallowed. “I know. I know you do.” He closed his eyes, an expression like pain momentarily filling his features. “Don’t be gone long.”

The tension leached out of her body. Ben was letting her leave. He wasn’t going to stop her. Which was a very, very good thing—she would have absolutely put up a fight, and in no scenario would that have ended well. She just needed to _think_ ; whatever was going on inside her was monumental. She felt it like a shift in gravity.

“I won’t,” Rey promised, stroking his wrists. 

His eyes went soft as he kissed her forehead, lingering so long Rey feared he’d changed his mind. His big hands gripped her upper arms, and it was almost like the tension had fled from her only to spill into Ben. If she stood here long enough they might pass it back and forth like a beach ball until it was too late for her to step foot out the door.

“Save some cake for me.” Rey’s smile was wobbly, so she kissed him quickly on the cheek before he noticed and broke for the door. 

Behind her, Ben said, so softly she nearly missed it, “Please come back, Rey.”

Her pace filtered, and she turned around. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands loose by his sides, eyes dark and conflicted. She hated to see him so affected and almost— _almost_ —went to him. But then that feeling washed over her again, and she reached blindly for the doorknob. 

Outside, she inhaled fresh air so far into her lungs she could feel it like an ache in her chest. Somehow she was already on the sidewalk, feet moving independent of her mind. Her thoughts were at war. 

_You shouldn’t have left him. He needed you. Did you see the look on his face? He needed you, Rey!_

_Fresh air. Just a little fresh air to clear your head. That’s all. You’ve been locked inside so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be outdoors._

_You should go back. Ben didn’t look so well. If you turn around now maybe he won’t be mad. Maybe he’ll forgive you._

_A couple blocks and things will make sense again. People need to take a break every once in a while, you know? Totally normal._

Throat tight, Rey quickened her pace and wished she could somehow outrun her own mind. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She didn’t allow herself to think very hard about her destination while she walked, and maybe that was why—when she finally blinked and took stock of her surroundings--she found herself standing at the entrance to her apartment building.

 _I must’ve walked thirty blocks,_ she thought, dazed. _Thirty blocks and I don’t remember a single second._

This should worry her, Rey knew, this total lack of awareness, but instead she was only relieved. For once, she hadn’t been consumed by her thoughts. Before quarantine started, that was how she spent most of her time. When she wasn’t at either work or in Ben’s presence, she would find herself whiling the hours away in her apartment, pacing and thinking and wondering and worrying. Not about anything in particular, usual—-or rather, about _everything_ in particular. 

Rey jogged to the second floor and swished her hand under the worn welcome mat. She slotted her key into the lock with only a brief hesitation. Her memories of the place weren’t _bad_ ; on the contrary, she loved it here. Part of her feared that returning was akin to breaking the fantasy she’d been living with Ben. 

The door swung open, and a musty odor hit her nose at once—the staple of a place that hadn’t been used for a while. Of course, she understood that two weeks was nothing in terms of separation, but it was also the most time she’d spent away from her own place in _years_. Before quarantine, Ben would often ask her to stay the night in his townhouse, especially if they’d been casually drinking, but Rey always insisted on going back. Her apartment was her own, and that meant something. She had never before been able to call a place _hers_. 

For several weeks after signing the paperwork, Rey would abruptly stop, stare in awe at her tiny space, and think, _Mine_.

The front door creaked as she shut it behind her. Filtered sunlight slanted through the living room, illuminating dust bunnies and stray pieces of grass strewn on the floor. Her couch was devoid of pillows or blankets; the TV on its stand was silent and looming. 

The kitchen was the same. Ben had mostly emptied it of food, and even though she knew the reason why—rot and mold would _always_ turn her stomach—Rey still forced herself to ignore the pang in her chest at the sight of such barrenness. She usually lived her day-to-day life with the ever-present fear that one day she might open the fridge or pantry to find that it was bare again. That kind of panic was unexplainable. Intolerable.

Swallowing back painful memories, Rey wandered down the short hallway to her bedroom. It was almost embarrassing how devoid of life it was—compared to Ben’s townhouse, her apartment looked ready for prospective client showings. No decorations on the walls, and very few trinkets on the few surfaces. The walls and flooring were white. 

Rey knew this lack of decor existed only because she dreaded having it taken from her. This space that was all her own—should someone dare to wrench it from her, Rey would fight tooth and nail to keep it. But sometimes even that wasn’t enough.

Sometimes things were taken and never given back. 

The mattress sagged beneath her weight as she perched on the edge. The thing was stained and lumpy and at least ten years past its expiration date. But it had come with the apartment, and Rey never took free things for granted. 

Even though she already missed Dyad and Ben—even though she loved curling up on his couch while reruns of _The Office_ aired on NBC or sipped tea at the kitchen table early in the morning—Rey was thankful for the quiet. She could close her eyes and, just for a little while, be alone with her thoughts. It seemed counterintuitive—too often she strived to avoid whatever horrors were unfolding in her mind—but right now, that was what she needed. To be alone, and to think.

She inhaled slowly to the count of eight and released it on a long, steadying breath. Beneath her hands, the mattress was soft and wrinkled with weeks-old bedsheets—she’d never been one for laundry. The air in her apartment smelled musty, but beneath that, like a subtle undertone, she smelled a light, floral perfume that reminded her of meadows and sunshine. It was her own, unworn these past two weeks. 

The familiar scent put her at ease. She flopped back on the mattress and stared at the blank white ceiling. For the next however many minutes—apparently it was better not to count so as to avoid stress —she concentrated on breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Her heart beat as steadily as it ever had, and in that moment—and the next and the next—she just reveled in being alive and healthy and _here_. 

Here in this apartment. In this place that was old and leaky and sometimes smelly but _hers_. A place where she could wake up and stretch and greet the morning. A place where she could stumble into the too-small bathroom and comb the tangled strands from her eyes. A place to eat and laugh and cry and live. _Her_ place. 

Here in this small city. In this area of high-priced coffee shops and horrible parallel-parking jobs. An area of parks and high-rises and occasional concerts. An area with trees that lined streets, of gardens that filled empty spaces, of leaf piles and greenhouses and terrarium collections. _Her_ place.

Here in this life. Where she worked a hard job with plenty of good and bad days both—days that were always exciting and fast-paced and unexpected. Where she could visit a grocery or retail store of her own free will and use her own money to buy herself things she wanted and needed. Where she could laugh at the silly games kids played in the streets and cry when an abandoned puppy trotted from a darkened alley. Where the air was fresh and clear and the sun was bright and she could breathe and breathe and breathe and tell herself, _I exist. I am here._

Here with Ben. At his house or near a park or in a restaurant. Wrestling on the couch or baking cakes or debating the merits of chocolate versus vanilla. Talking and laughing and groaning and smiling and cheering each other on. With Ben and his silky hair that was just a touch too long and his wide, unabashed grin and slim fingers and bright, fiercely burning eyes. With Ben and his soft gaze and gentle touch and aching kisses. 

With Ben. 

Rey sat up slowly on the bed. That feeling was back—the one that threatened to break her in half. It was so heavy she could feel a tightness in her throat and chest like invisible bands were constricting around her. But maybe she didn’t have to let it break her. Maybe, if she would only just relent, this feeling would flood into her like relief, like joy and awe and peace. 

If she let it.

Rey’s lower lip trembled. She was used to dealing with negative emotions—she knew how to wrangle them into seemingly endless compartments in her mind, smother them, drag them back into the shadows—but this feeling was not like that. This feeling was _infinite_. It was the way she felt when a customer left a surprisingly big tip. It was the way she felt when a little kid ran with unfettered glee into the out-stretched arms of a loved one. It was how she felt when she nuzzled Dyad and tasted sushi after a long break and watched her favorite fictional characters fall in love again. 

It was hope.

But it was also more than even that. She would feel it when she locked up the apartment. She would feel it when she walked the slowly darkening streets and glimpsed the first hints of stars overhead. She would feel it when the townhouse came into view again, all cobbled bricks and wide windows and blue paint. She would feel it when she went home and—

 _When I go home._

Rey stared at the empty room. She stared and stared and did not move. 

Not for seconds or for minutes or for days and weeks and months. She did not move for eternity or _then_ or _now_ or _next._

“Home,” she whispered, treating it like a delicate thing, a word only to be spoken when convinced of its truth. Then again, louder, “Home.”

Rey would go home. 

A wild laugh burst from her lips. Of _course_ she would go home. That was where she could find the light. There was a baby kitten waiting for her, a treasure trove of Legos and yarn, baked goods and bowls of sugary cereal, dad jokes and Buzzfeed quizzes and confusing sci-fi storylines. Of course she would go home because that’s where she would find Ben. 

And Ben was her home. 

Such a simple thing, and yet she hadn’t seen it until now. Ben was laughter and early morning kisses and snuggling on the couch and fingers in her hair. He was lopsided smiles and beginner knitting and peppermint in her mouth. 

Tears rained from her eyes, and she covered her face, laughing and crying and nearly choking with relief. Of course Ben was home. This was so obvious, so inherent to her very being, that to think otherwise would be wrong on _every_ level. Ben wasn’t just her friend, or her family, or her home—he was all of them at once. 

And she loved him. 

The barrier broke, and the love she had prevented herself from feeling blew through her like a heavy wind. She breathed it in like a fine wine, like fresh fruit in an orchard, like her favorite meal and fresh flowers and apple-scented lotion all wrapped into one. This feeling, for all its newness, had been there all along. It was more a tiny piece of a puzzle slotting into place rather than an unexpected discovery. 

_I don’t like being apart from you._

_I’m glad you’re in my life._

_You couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted._

_I tend to lose my mind when I’m around you._

_I will never let anything happen to you, I swear on my life._

_Where she goes, I go._

_I want to kiss you when you’re sleepy and when you’re upset._

_I love you so goddamn much, Rey. I love you. I love you._

_I love you._

Ben had told her a thousand different times in a thousand different ways, and all along she had convinced herself that he was affectionate by nature. It was normal for friends to treat one another like they were the center of the universe. It was normal to call her up at all hours of the day and night to check in and send her a meme she’d like and remind her to set up a dentist appointment and congratulate her on a big tip she’d received from a customer. It was normal to spend half the day wondering what he was doing and who he was talking to and what he was wearing and whether he was happy or not. 

It was normal.

But of course it wasn’t, and she wanted more than anything to bang her head against the wall until that notion really settled in and took root. Friends didn’t kiss and snuggle in bed and desperately hump each other like they might combust if they didn’t. Friends didn’t touch breasts or lick throats or murmur endearments late at night. 

Rey laughed at the empty room and shook her head. _You absolute buffoon. You total fool. You silly, oblivious girl._

Her gaze wandered out the window. From her bedroom she could see the fronts of other apartment buildings across the street. There wasn’t much traffic down this way, but two busy roads bisected her street, and she could hear honking horns and the steady thrum of traffic at any given time. The sun was nearly sunk behind a tall column of brick several streets over, so everything was already cast in shadow. 

_Oh,_ Rey thought then, her stomach plunging. She surged to her feet. _Oh shit._

How long had she been gone? If she left just after lunch and it was already getting dark, that meant—Rey ran into the kitchen and stared open-mouthed at the stove clock. Seven-thirty. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._ She’d been gone nearly _five_ hours. Frantically, she patted at the pockets of her denim shorts. No phone. She must’ve left it charging on the bedside table. Hadn’t she told Ben—hadn’t she _promised_ him—she wouldn’t be long?

Rey didn’t have her wallet either, which meant she couldn't even call a taxi. Uber was obviously out of the question. She’d have to walk the thirty blocks back and hope she made it before dark. A young woman alone on the streets in the city was the start of nearly every horror story she knew. 

Swallowing past the fear— _don’t let it consume you, this is a mistake but a mistake you can fix_ —Rey locked her apartment door and slid the key back under the worn welcome mat. Then she was flying down the staircase and out of the small foyer of her building, running down the streets like her ass was on fire. In her chest was a familiar panic, but one that—for once—wasn’t for her. It was for _Ben_. She desperately hoped he hadn’t gone to the police or something. What if he was out looking for her because he thought something had happened? That she was hurt or worse? 

Again and again and again she heard his soft _please_ in her mind. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he knew that wasn’t his decision to make.

Five blocks down, and Rey was already lagging. _Fuck, I am so out of shape._ Now more than ever she wished she’d taken Finn and Poe up on their offers to go hiking. Maybe she’d be halfway there. Hell, maybe she’d _be_ there. 

She forced herself to concentrate on her breathing and the rapid rise and fall of her footsteps smacking pavement. There weren’t many people out this late on a weekday evening, so she didn’t have to dodge very much. Still, she did receive a handful of curious looks as she booked it toward home. 

_Home, home, home._ The word was a drumbeat in her chest, a mantra, a promise. She was going _home._

Although they lived in a small city of roughly fifty thousand, Ben lived in a very suburban-esque neighborhood. There were trees lining the sidewalks and space between the rows of well-maintained townhouses. Most even had backyards and grass in the front too. This was...maybe not a wealthy area, but it was most definitely upper-middle-class. 

Rey had always felt very self-conscious when parking her shitty car at the curb in front of his house. The neighbors, no doubt, probably wondered what a girl like her driving a beat-up old thing like her embarrassingly outdated Chevy Cavalier was doing in _their_ neck of the woods. 

Not that they mattered anymore. Not that _anything_ mattered but getting home to Ben.

Finally, after what she hoped was only thirty minutes but was probably more like an hour, Rey wheezed her way up to the front door, fumbling for the knob. She twisted it and half-fell into the silent foyer, surprised that it was unlocked. Ben was a stickler for safety measures. Maybe he assumed—and he would be correct in this assumption—that she hadn’t brought her keys. Yet another reason she made a poor adult. 

Dyad didn’t run to greet her, so she suspected he was either taking one of his half a dozen daily naps...or he was snuggled up with Ben somewhere. Quietly, she shut the front door and peered into the kitchen and living room. Both empty. The house was relatively dark, which worried her—had he actually gone to report her missing? It was a dramatic step, but then again she’d witnessed his near-breakdown when he dragged her from the grocery store earlier in the week.

“Ben?” she whispered. Her voice was rough with strain—well, mostly thirst because she’d run _thirty fucking blocks_ —and sweat rolled freely down her back. She hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and her head swam as she peeked into the downstairs rooms. 

_Okay,_ she told herself, sucking in air. _He must be upstairs then._

Hand on the railing, Rey dragged herself up the staircase and immediately made for the bedroom. Her eyes snagged on the open study room door, but that was dark and empty too. Sometimes he worked late when he was stressed out or backed up with spreadsheets or whatever, but apparently today was not one of those days. 

The silence of the townhouse was a bit unnerving; it gave off a deserted feel. Actually, it reminded her of her own place. She suppressed a shudder.

In the doorway of their bedroom, Rey blinked and, as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, caught a faint meow from the corner. Dyad was curled up in a little ball in yet another one of his beds—yeah, she and Ben had gone way overboard ordering from Amazon—but he raised his head when she appeared, green eyes shining like two floating orbs in the darkness. 

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Her heart lurched at the sight, and without thinking she threw herself forward. The distance between them closed in a blink. She barrelled into his chest and sent them both sprawling on the mattress. He made a soft sound of surprise, and then her arms were around his neck, her cheek pressed to his as she clung. 

“ _Ben!_ ” she gasped, straddling his waist. “Jesus! I’m _so_ sorry! I lost track of time, I didn’t realize how far I’d gone, and by then I was, like, a million miles away, and maybe you don't know this but I’m _really_ out of shape—” She broke off and hugged him tightly, kissing him on the mouth again and again. His lips were already parted, like he was in shock. 

“You’re—” His voice cut off abruptly, and Rey loosened her hold, afraid she was accidentally choking him. That was the last thing she wanted. What she did want was to hear his voice, to see his face, to taste those lips and that mouth. What she did want was to make him feel better. 

Rey cradled his head in her hands and stared into eyes nearly night-dark. He was unusually pale. The sight of it—of his obvious fear—did something to her chest. Crunched it into a tiny, shameful ball of guilt. 

“I forgot my phone,” she whispered, lower lip trembling. “I didn’t realize how long I was gone until it started to get dark. Please don’t be upset.”

He kept his eyes on hers, as if mesmerized. Or maybe disbelieving she was there. “I could never be angry with you, Rey. But I was…”

Her heart clenched tightly in her chest. “I should’ve been more responsible. I—I’ll understand if you’re angry with me. You told me not to be long, and I totally just—”

“Rey.” Ben whispered her name and pressed their foreheads together, one of his large hands cradling the back of her head. His voice was steady but unbearably soft. “I’m not angry. But you did have me worried. I knew you didn’t have your phone, and there was no other way to contact you.” A wry smile. “Can’t say this surprised me, though.”

She smiled too, warmed by the teasing tone of his voice. “I’m irresponsible.”

“Mm. Sometimes,” he agreed, shifting her in his lap so he could wrap an arm around her midsection, fingers trailing over her ribs. “I assumed you’d come back when you were ready, but when it got dark, I…” He rolled his lips uncomfortably. “I searched the neighborhood.” He sounded embarrassed, like his worry was unfounded or ridiculous. 

“I walked to my apartment,” she said softly, biting her lip.

“You _what_?” Ben pulled back, eyes wide, nostrils flaring. “Rey—”

“I know, I know,” she groaned, wincing. “Like I said, I wasn’t really paying attention—”

“You walked _forty blocks_ without once considering where you were?” His jaw worked, and when she lowered her gaze to his chest he sighed and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Baby, you need to be more careful.”

The endearment fluttered in her chest like a hummingbird: warm and quick and happy. She purposefully ignored the fact that it was _forty_ blocks and not thirty—damn was she going to be sore tomorrow—to her apartment and nodded weakly. “I had a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” he demanded. She sensed he was more concerned than angry, but he did nothing to hide the aggression in his voice.

“About you,” she said quietly. 

He was silent.

“I needed time to think,” she explained, fiddling with his shirt collar. “Quarantine’s going to end eventually. Maybe by next week.”

“And you think…”

She shrugged. “Maybe once we get back to our normal lives, we’ll realize that…” It was so hard to say, but she forced the words past the block in her throat. “We’re better off as friends.”

“Is that what you think?” Ben asked, voice rough. His hands tightened on her hips. 

“ _No_ ,” she whispered harshly, meeting his eyes. “That’s not what I think at all. I don’t want to be just friends. Not anymore.” Then, with a small, shy smile, “We’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?” 

“None of our time together has been _wasted_ ,” he said slowly, pressing his thumbs into her hip bones. The pressure was oddly steadying. “Every moment I have spent with you, from the moment we met, has been meaningful. I wouldn’t exchange our time together for anything.” 

“Neither would I.” She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, leaning close enough their lips brushed. “I’m going to apologize again, and you’re going to listen.”

He nodded and watched her closely. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to his undivided attention. 

“I’m sorry for leaving for so long. I’m sorry for forgetting my phone so you had no way to contact me. I’m sorry for being an irresponsible brat. I want to stay here with you and Dyad because you were right. We’re a family.” Tears burned the back of her throat. “And I want to say thank you, Ben. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for making me feel better. Thank you for being the best person in my life.”

Ben’s breath faltered, and when he closed the small gap between them, she kept her eyes wide open. They kissed quietly, like they didn’t want to disturb the peace. They kissed slowly, like they had all the time in the world to savor one another. 

Rey slid her arms around his neck and clung to him with a desperation that was on the edge of frightening. He was her rock. He was her _everything_. If something were to happen—if he were to be taken from her—she would never recover. The things she’d experienced in life had been terrifying and often crippling, but none of them had managed to _break_ her.

To lose Ben, however, would be to decimate everything she was. 

“Thank you for being my home,” she whispered, and he shuddered beneath her. 

“I will never let you go now,” he warned in a voice so deep she could barely understand him. 

“Don’t.” She didn’t _want_ to be separated from him. Not now, not ever. 

“Rey,” he said, lips gliding over the smooth expanse of her neck, “I missed you.”

“I know.” They were still speaking in whispers. To be loud would be to disrupt the peace, to shatter the delicate little bubble surrounding them. 

“I wanted to give you space,” he continued, “but I was fucking terrified. At first I thought, maybe something’s happened. Then I worried...well, maybe she doesn’t want to come back.”

“I will,” she insisted fiercely, her thighs tightening around his hips. “I’m not going to leave. I promise.”

Ben swallowed heavily. “I know you won’t. Logically, I know. But something in me is…” He struggled for a moment, but she waited silently, knowing he would tell her when (and if) he was ready. 

“Afraid,” he finished, the word spilling from him in a hot gust of air. “I’m constantly afraid for you, Rey.” 

Now it was her turn to remain quiet. She suspected she knew the origins of this kind of overpowering fear, but he needed to get there on his own. 

“When my parents died,” he began haltingly, speaking into her neck, “I was lost. This was years before I met you. My mother— The pneumonia took her in a matter of weeks, and then when my father died a year later, it— I don’t have words for what it was like. Who I was.”

 _Lost._ She understood that all too well. 

“I drank all the time. I spent my money on booze and cigarettes and stupid shit. Half the time it just seemed to fucking disappear,” he said with a small laugh. “God knows where it all went. I don’t remember much from that time. All I knew was my parents were gone, and I was alone and...and just so fucking _helpless_.”

Rey pressed her lips together to keep from reacting. Hearing him talk about the worst time in his life was hard. It made _her_ feel helpless for _him_. She could only imagine how it felt to be the one who experienced it all and to talk about it voluntarily now. To dredge up those memories on _purpose_. 

Sometimes memories were best left untouched.

Ben sighed shakily, the vibration ricocheting through her too. “When you leave—if you’re out of my sight for too long—I start to panic. The grocery store is a prime example. Not knowing where you are, what’s happening to you—it drives me _crazy,_ Rey." He sighed into her neck and held on for a silent minute. 

“I used to handle my anxiety well enough," he continued quietly. "Before quarantine, I’d only check in on you once or twice a day, and I would try to keep my demands to see you in person to a minimum. But since quarantine, it’s—these feelings have only gotten worse.” 

Ben inhaled deeply, the skin of her neck tingling where his nose brushed. “I want to be better for you, Rey. I want to take care of you, and I can’t do that when I’m like this. A mess.”

She snorted, surprising them both. “It’s ironic. I want to be better for _you_.” Pulling slightly further back so she could see him fully, she added, “You know, we have a lot more in common than I thought.”

“In terms of mental instability, you mean?” His lips quirked at the corners like he was suppressing a smile. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, and gently moved a strand of hair off his forehead. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He frowned, not following.

“See someone,” she clarified, carefully watching his reaction. “Maybe a therapist or counselor or— Actually, I don’t know the difference. _Someone._ To help you figure this out.”

His eyes roved over her face: they dipped to her mouth, roamed across her cheeks and nose, scanned her eyes. But Rey was serious, and not only that—she was determined. He had helped her in ways she couldn’t begin to explain. The very least she could do was return the favor. The thought of him feeling helpless was like a knife through the heart. Ben Solo should _never_ feel helpless. She would not allow it. 

His smile was soft and warm like sunlight. “You think so? I never thought it was something I needed professional help with.”

Rey wrinkled her nose. “That’s called toxic masculinity, sir. You can’t handle everything by yourself. Sometimes it’s okay to ask for support. Actually, somebody else told me that.” She tapped her chin. “Can’t remember who.”

He gently kissed the tip of her nose. “If you’re brave enough to do it, then I have no excuse, huh?”

_Brave. _Nobody had ever called her _that_ before. Well, except for the time she accepted three additional tables on top of her already crowded section at the diner and somehow managed to please everyone. Rose had made a surprised face, nodded, and called her _the bravest bitch in the house_. But, she suspected, that was different. __

____

“If I’m brave, you’re brave,” she said, running her fingers through the hair at his nape. 

____

“Please don’t let that be an impression of the _if I’m a bird, you’re a bird_ quote from _Titanic_ ,” he groaned, nuzzling the side of her head.

____

“Of course not…” she said vaguely, and he laughed. 

____

“I’ll schedule something,” he said, shifting them further back on the bed. He sank into his mountain of pillows at the headboard, and she cuddled into his chest, closing her eyes so she could listen to his heart. 

____

“It’s that easy?” she murmured, somewhat taken aback by his instant compliance. For her, the struggle had waged on for weeks. _Months_ , really. 

____

He shrugged beneath her. “I don’t see why not. Besides, if you’re telling me to get help, there’s no reason I shouldn’t. I trust you.” 

____

“I trust you too,” she said, and it was true. In fact, he might be the only person in the world who had earned it. 

____

There was silence then. From the corner of the room came the soft, rumbling purrs of a sleeping kitten. Outside the sky was fully dark; a crescent moon shone like polished silver against a backdrop of pointed roofs and trees. Ben’s heart was steady and soothing beneath her cheek. His heart, she understood now, was hers, just as her heart—fractured and uneven as it was—belonged to him. 

____

“What did you call me earlier?” 

____

Ben’s voice in the stillness of the room startled her. She tensed on his chest, and his arms constricted as if to reassure her that it was just him. Like she could ever consider him _just_ anything. 

____

“What did I _call_ you?” Rey frowned and rewound their conversation. Nothing stood out. “I don’t know.” 

____

“Mm.” He grunted and fell silent again. 

____

Rey wasn’t so easily appeased. This was going to bother her. She certainly hadn’t called him any playful names recently, so that was out. Maybe—no, he wouldn’t willingly bring up the Titanic quote. He seemed really tired, even though he’d only spent the day at home, so maybe his mind— 

____

_Oh._

____

“Home,” she whispered. “I said you’re my home, Ben.” 

____

He sighed, and it was only as the minutes passed that she realized he’d fallen asleep. 

____

Rey rolled her eyes and lightly poked his bicep. What a nerd. 

____

She got comfortable on his chest—legs bracketing his thighs, head tucked under his chin, hands pressed to his sides, beneath his arms—and began to count down from a hundred. In seconds drowsiness descended, and she was thankful. 

____

Rey was nearly asleep when it hit her like a punch. 

____

She still hadn’t told Ben she loved him. 

____

_Ah, shit._

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **catch me crying in the club**
> 
> **this chap was 10k words 🥴 I had a lot to say apparently sksksksksk**
> 
> **only 3 chapters left!! 😭 the last few updates will probably be super random & not on Tuesdays like all the others fyi but it'll be done very soon which is both good & sad af**
> 
> say hi!!  
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	15. Never Tell Me The Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey goes a little stir-crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **lil chocolate gremlin**

**DAY TWELVE--part** I

Sure enough, Rey was sore as a motherfucker the next day.

She groaned as she levered herself out of bed. She groaned as she wobbled down the staircase. She groaned while selecting a cereal bowl, while fetching the milk, while figuring out the dreaded mechanics of taking a seat at the kitchen table. She even groaned when Dyad scampered over and scream-meowed to be picked up.

“My precious baby,” she whimpered. “My precious, annoyingly persistent baby. Please do not ask this of me.”

But Dyad would ask, and he did. For at least three full minutes. 

Rey clutched her spoon in a tight fist. “You are the love of my life,” she told him, “but if you don’t leave me alone I will lose my shit.”

“Is that any way to talk to your child?” 

Ben walked into the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. He was bright-eyed and seemed—if she wasn't mistaken—amused. 

“I’m so glad my pain is entertaining,” she sighed, scooping Frosted Flakes into her mouth. The sugar went instantly to her brain. She tipped her head back and sighed. Sweet, sweet release. 

Rey eyed him over the rim of her water glass. He was looking particularly fine today: form-fitting black slacks, a white button-down with said buttons straining over his chest, and sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. The veins in his big hands were visible to her even from across the kitchen, and his black hair was styled just so— _casually tousled was a good term_. 

Mouth-watering. Literally. Her mouth was, at this very moment, flooding with saliva. 

_Down, girl,_ she scolded herself. It was the middle of a workday. Ben had adulting to do.

“T.G.I.W.,” she said dismally, swirling her cereal around. It was getting soggy. Better hurry. 

“Thank god it’s….?” Ben frowned and glanced at her over his shoulder. She quickly looked away from his ass. “Did you just...say the acronym instead of the actual phrase? Which, by the way, is T.G.I.F.”

She shoved more Frosted Flakes into her mouth. “That’s why I said T.G.I.W. Thank god it’s _Wednesday_.”

He shook his head and turned back to the coffee pot. “Well, T.G.I...W. to you, too. Even though you’re—“

“Not working,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes and stabbing her spoon into the bowl. “Blah blah. Whatever.” 

“Are you in a mood this morning?”

“Absolutely not. My whole body is on fire and I didn’t sleep well. I am extremely optimistic about the day.”

“Ah. You're in a mood this morning.”

Rey scowled and angrily shoved more cereal into her mouth. “Nice job, detective.”

For a reason she did not quite want to admit to, Rey was feeling especially savage. No, it was not her time of the month—she’d checked. She wasn’t out of money—although she was definitely running low. This sudden bout of inexplicable irritation didn’t even stem from the soreness that was currently destroying her sanity. 

The reason for her attitude was, to her utter despair, appointment anxiety. 

She had not seen a doctor—of any kind—for months. Not because she’d been neglecting her health; no, she was usually pretty on top of her appointments, thanks to the reminders Ben regularly programmed into her phone. But now she was supposed to quote-unquote _see_ —via laptop screen—a new doctor that would be singularly responsible for detailing a plan to manage her mental illnesses. Plural. 

No big deal. Totally fine. She was _very super chill_ about all of it—

“Mayhaps I will pass out,” she declared calmly, stirring around the last few Frosted Flakes left in the bowl. Too soggy. Pass. 

Ben set down his mug. “What?”

“Not really,” she said quickly, swallowing back—was that bile? Oh _fantastic_. “Although I could really go for some Tums right now. Or, like, ten Tums. A handful. You know what, just give me the bottle and I’ll figure it out.”

“Rey…” he said slowly, sinking down on his haunches before her. “Far be it from me to make assumptions, but I think, maybe, you may not be handling this well.”

“You,” she said, sticking a finger into his chest, “are absolutely correct.”

Then she burst into tears.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, lifting her around the waist. 

Rey moaned at the pain in her muscles but kept crying because she was, if nothing else, dedicated to expressing her emotions. Her arms slid around Ben's neck as her legs wrapped loosely around his waist. He held her like an overgrown toddler, and she did not give one single shit. 

“I’m just nervous,” she blubbered, pushing her face into his neck. “I _hate_ this feeling.” 

“I know,” he cooed, walking into the living room. Dyad trotted at his heels, little tail twitching curiously. “It’s normal to be nervous.”

“Not _this_ nervous!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “I can’t tell whether I’m gonna puke or faint. Oh god. What if I do _both_?”

“That will not happen,” Ben said, and he sounded so sure she put those worries to rest. For now. There was time enough for them to return. 

Ben sat down in an armchair, maneuvering her legs so they hung through the open sides. He adjusted her in his lap so she could curl into his chest. A part of her worried she was making a mess of his nice dress shirt, but then a different part reminded her that he was working from home anyway, so who gave a shit. 

_His dry-cleaner, probably,_ she thought, sniffling. 

“How am I supposed to deal with this for another twenty-four hours?” she demanded, squeezing her eyes shut against more tears. “It’s...paralyzing.”

Ben kissed the top of her head, his hands running up and down her back as she struggled not to cry. It was a valiant effort, truth be told, but a wasteful one because she couldn’t stop herself. The tears just kept coming, which was both mortifying and strangely relaxing. 

At least she wasn’t catatonic. That had happened once, and honestly— _what_ a trip. Would not recommend it. 

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” Ben’s voice was low and unassuming. It calmed her immediately. 

“Tired and overwhelmed and upset for no reason,” she recited wearily. “And...and angry, too. This is so _stupid_.” 

“It’s not stupid,” he reminded her, kissing her temple. “It’s just how you’re feeling.”

She sighed, frustrated. “And how I’m feeling is _stupid_. It makes no sense.”

“But it does,” Ben said gently, coaxing her head back. She glared at him, the effect ruined by the wet mess of her face. “Your brain chemistry is just a bit out of balance. You have to remember this is precisely why you’ve scheduled an appointment. Because of this feeling. Because you need help managing it, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

Her breathing, which had been edging in the direction of wild gasping, slowed as his words sank in. _I need help managing it and that’s okay._ Of course. 

Of _course._

“Right,” she whispered, staring at his chest. Those buttons were really working overtime, weren't they? “You’re right. I forgot.”

“I’m here to remind you.” Ben smoothed his hands over her hips and slid them beneath her soft cotton shirt. He held her waist with his bare hands, and the heat of them seeped into her—the heat chased away the ice-cold chill nibbling at her spine. 

She also noticed--not for the first time--that his hands were so big and long that if he extended his fingers just a little and applied the _tiniest_ bit of pressure he could completely encircle her waist. This realization did many things to both her brain and body, and none of them were appropriate. 

Ben hummed as she kissed his mouth, sucking on his lips like they were her favorite candies. He tasted like coffee and peppermint. 

“I hope you realize this may or may not happen approximately fifteen more times today,” she said. This, unfortunately, was by no means an exaggeration. 

“I don’t mind,” he told her, tilting his head to kiss the tender skin of her throat. She made a soft, breathy sound, and Ben’s body went taut. 

“You...have to get back to work,” she said, running her hands over the buttons of his shirt. Those _fucking_ buttons. They were straining to keep the material together, and damn if they weren’t teasing her about it. “Didn’t you only come down for coffee?”

“And to see you.” He kissed the corners of her mouth, tongue trailing along the seams of her lips. “Any excuse to see you.”

Her abdomen clenched. “You could just ask me to come up,” she said, biting her lip to keep from moaning. 

“That’s both a terrible idea and one I am sorely tempted by,” he mumbled, his roaming hands lifting the hem of her shirt so far up her back she felt it skim her shoulder blades. 

“Why terrible?” Rey clutched the back of his head as he kissed his way down her throat. 

“You’d distract me. I wouldn’t get any work done.”

“You need a break every now and then,” she gasped, squirming as his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. She was wearing a bra today, thankfully. 

He groaned, and his hands tightened against her upper back. “Rey, if you keep moving I will not be responsible for my actions.”

The warning sent a shock of blazing heat across every single nerve ending. Well, of _course_ all she wanted to do now was move around as much as she could. Seriously, what did he expect after saying that? 

“If I keep moving, what will you do?” Rey could resist the temptation of the dress shirt no longer. She worked the top button through its hole with quick fingers. 

“Would you like me to describe it?” His voice was very low. Her thighs clenched on either side of his hips. 

“In detail.” The second button popped free. They were, as she suspected, ridiculously easy to undo. Like they were just _asking_ to be torn apart. 

Ben’s jaw worked as he considered her. He remained silent and strangely unreadable as she swiftly tore apart two more buttons. The material parted, revealing a smooth, sculpted chest she had often admired during pool or beach days. Now she had a front row seat. 

Feeling bold, Rey leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his bare skin. 

Ben exhaled through gritted teeth with a sharp “Fuck!” that made her incredibly—dare she say, _stupidly_ —wet. She repositioned her hips, and his hands fell to her ass. 

“You’re being...stubborn again, aren’t you?” he said, breathing heavily. He squeezed lightly, and she yelped at the sudden pressure.

“I’m not being stubborn,” she mumbled, twisting her lips thoughtfully. “But maybe I need to be distracted.” 

Ben looked absolutely tortured. “No maybe about it.”

She smiled, just a little, and he hissed through his teeth. A big hand slid to the back of her neck, and he licked from the base of her throat up along her jugular in one long, wet swipe. A gasp ripped its way free, and Ben dug his fingers into the sides of her neck. Not painfully, but enough to still her. 

“Touch me,” she demanded, palms rubbing up and down his bare chest. He was so fucking _hard_. 

Ben scraped his teeth over her jaw before pressing a bruising kiss to her mouth. She tasted salt and sweat and coffee. An intoxicating combination. 

His breath was hot in her ear. “I’m going to take you upstairs and—“

A sudden, shrill keening interrupted him. Ben blinked and looked around the living room. Rey’s gaze swam to the kitchen. Was it the damn oven again? If there was ever a cockblocking kitchen appliance—

“Shit,” Ben muttered, running a hand through his hair. Pieces stuck straight up, giving him a hilariously disheveled—and deliciously appealing—look. “That’s a Zoom call.”

Fucking _Zoom_.

“You should...get that?” Rey wasn’t convinced. Her fingers hesitated on his shirt-front. A few more buttons and—

He swallowed heavily. “I—Fuck, I need to—“

With sorrow and regret etched in every feature, Ben gently lifted her from his lap, disentangling their limbs, and set her on her feet. A breathless kiss and a promise to _continue this later_ were all she got before he was bounding up the stairs to the study. 

Rey crossed her arms and pouted. What kind of house was this, where kitchen appliances and Zoom meetings had free reign to interrupt their private time? Not that Ben wasn’t technically on the clock, but…

She rolled her eyes and dragged herself into their bedroom, scooping up Dyad with a grimace as she made for the stairs. All her many woes had temporarily been forgotten when she was in Ben’s arms. So far, he was the best prescription for sore muscles and anxiety. Maybe she could invest.

She knew a guy.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10:55 a.m.

Rey eyed the bedroom closet. 

“Should I?” she asked Dyad. He was bouncing around on the mattress, clearly not listening to her. Which was a shame since she was currently in the midst of a Big Decision. With capitals. 

Rey sat on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping rhythmically on her arm. Dressed in shorts and a tank top, she’d been in the middle of throwing her hair into her usual buns as the finishing touch to her very basic quarantine get-ready routine when her eyes had caught on the far back corner of the open closet. Without consciously deciding to do so, she had lurched forward and slammed the door shut. Now she was staring it down like it had done something to personally offend her. 

“Hmm,” she said aloud. To enter or not to enter—the eternal question. The _infernal_ question. 

Was she in the right frame of mind to handle this? Not really, no, but when was she ever. Would another opportunity arise? Well, yes, she was stuck in this house for the foreseeable future. Her schedule was clear. Would the world end if she didn’t make a decision _right_ now? Probably not, but it was impossible to say for sure. 

Rey twisted to look over her shoulder. “Dyad?”

He meowed and sank his teeth into a pillow.

“Yes, I agree.” 

Wiping her hands on her jean shorts, Rey scooped up the kitten before he could enthusiastically destroy their bed and walked out. 

Another time.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11:03 a.m.

Unless he was absolutely _drowning_ in work, Ben would expect to eat lunch with her in roughly an hour. 

She knew there was salad in the fridge. Turkey and ham lunchmeat too. A plate of leftover lasagna. Mixed vegetables, including the dreaded mushroom. Barbecue chicken thighs. All prepared and cooked to absolute perfection, thanks to her boyfriend's skill. 

She would never get tired of saying that. _My boyfriend, my boyfriend, he’s my boyfriend!_

Rey was aware of the health standards expected of a woman her height and age. Balanced diet. Moderate exercise. Bullshit, bullshit, whatever, bullshit. Sure, doctors often advised their patients on diets and other health-related circumstances, but as far as she was concerned it was always _recommended_ , not mandatory.

Therefore, Rey was enthusiastically and yes, _shamelessly_ devouring yesterday’s celebratory Dyad cake.

She was in the living room, expertly balancing the plate on her knees. _Stranger Things_ was playing on the TV—the first and best season—and Dyad had abandoned her for Ben’s study. Fortunately for her, Ben hadn’t eaten a single slice once it was done baking. He had—and here she placed a hand on her heart because it was so fucking sweet—wanted to wait for her before eating. 

So the cake was whole, the sun was bright, and there was chocolate smeared all over Rey’s face.

The fork wasn’t really doing it for her, but she was an adult, so she sacrificed convenience for dignity and used the utensil to shove chunks into her mouth. Part of her did feel bad about ruining lunch, but she was hungry, and there was cake, and she didn’t want to wait. 

Did she mention there was _cake_? 

At first she’d been turned off by the thought of overindulgence. That’s what kept her from devouring the cake yesterday. But the longer she paced the house—distractions in limited supply and anxiety in _ample_ supply—the more often she found herself returning to the fridge. _Just a peek_ became _just a quick taste_ became _I’m going to devour this thing like it’s my last meal._

The floor creaked upstairs, and she froze mid-chew. Her eyes darted to the staircase. For a long minute, nothing happened. For a long minute, Rey analyzed all the many ways she could dispose of the evidence. Stick the fork beneath the sofa cushion. Hide the plate under a blanket. (Side note: wash blanket later.) Throw herself facedown on the sofa and pretend to take a nap while simultaneously ignoring the fact that she’d only been awake two hours. 

But nothing happened, and nothing continued to happen. Rey breathed a sigh of relief and resumed eating. On screen, superpowered Eleven was totally impressing the shit out of her evil Papa. 

“MEOW.”

“Ah!” Rey jerked and choked on a mouthful of cake, fork flinging chocolate across the floor. “ _Shit!_ ”

Dyad stared up at her, unconcerned and ignorant of the mess he'd made. 

“Dyad, honey,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Has anyone ever told you that, uh, you’re a bit of a terror?”

Dyad blinked.

Maybe it was just her. After all, he didn’t pee on the carpet or track poop all over the house. He didn’t wake her up at odd hours. He didn’t try to trip her going down the stairs, which had—irrationally and yet truthfully—been one of her biggest worries. 

“You’re a good boy,” she reassured the kitten, patting him tentatively on the head. (Her fingers were sticky with icing.) “Mommy’s sorry.”

Dyad scratched at the sofa leg, impatient to get to her. She awkwardly grabbed him around the stomach and set him down in her lap, where he immediately curled into a ball and began to purr. 

“If I get chocolate in your fur, I apologize in advance,” she muttered, eyes already back on the TV.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

12:12 p.m.

“Aren’t you hungry?” 

Rey jolted guiltily in her chair. She and her tuna melt had been in the middle of a staredown. Winner was unclear. 

“Uh, yeah, why?” Too late, she realized she should’ve snapped back with her usual sarcasm. “Aren’t I always?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not eating.”

She quickly popped a slice of cucumber in her mouth. “Yuh-huh.”

He rolled his eyes but relented. “How are you feeling?”

Because he was the sweetest fucking man on the planet, Ben had taken to checking in on her throughout the day. Casually dropped questions that both of them understood were anything but. They were always intended to gauge her mental state. _How are you feeling_ was his subtle overture. 

“On a scale of one to ten?” she asked, biting her cheek.

“Yes. Let's say ten is equivalent to the best day of your life and one is…” He trailed off, frowning. “Well, the opposite.”

“About a…” Rey’s mouth twisted to hide a smile. 

“Five is not a viable response. Try again.”

Damnit. Five was her go-to number, and he hated it. She didn’t choose it _because_ it would annoy him though; usually she had a hard time deciding if she was on the bad end of the spectrum or the good end. Commitment was a bit beyond her abilities at the moment, but even so, she knew five was kind of a cop-out. 

So if she was forced to pick…

“Six," Rey mumbled. "I guess.” She nibbled on her tuna melt, holding back a groan. She was _stuffed_. 

“Anxiety?”

“Yeah, mostly,” she said. Well, it was fear and irritation and a choking sense of dread, but that all just boiled down to anxiety.

“Anything you want to talk about?” he probed. 

“I watched more _Stranger Things_.”

Ben raised an eyebrow.

“Fine," she amended, " _re_ watched.”

Silence. 

“ _Fine_ ,” she said again, pouting. “I started making a list in my head of all the things we could talk about during the meeting.”

“You and your doctor?”

She nodded, tapping her fingers on the edge of the table.

“Rey, that’s _great_. I know you like to be prepared, and this is a healthy way to do that.” Ben beamed, and she straightened in her chair. 

Now, she could let him go on believing that. His ignorance would hurt no one. Except...that wasn’t true. He would eventually realize she’d been omitting something, and he might get upset. 

“Uh, well, I mean.” She scratched her neck. Damnit. “I made a list, you know, in case she says something I’m not expecting. Like if she asks _what are you feeling right now_ , I’ll have answers for both sides of that question. Should I give her a _truthful_ answer or one that’s a white lie? People don’t always want to hear the truth," she said, wagging a finger. "And if she says something like _what kind of symptoms do you exhibit during an episode_ , I memorized about thirty different responses based on the circumstances under which it's asked, so I’m covered there—"

“Okay, so, that’s not healthy,” Ben interrupted, running a hand down the side of his face.

Rey cringed. “Uh, yeah.” The tuna melt was making her nauseous now, so she pushed the plate away with the tip of her finger.

“Upset stomach?” The concern on his face swamped her with guilt. Obviously she wasn’t hungry because she’d devoured half a chocolate cake and _not_ because she was worried about the visit. Which—she _was_ worried, but not—ah, fuck. 

“I’m full,” she blurted, twiddling her thumbs. “I ate earlier.”

“Oh.” The tension left his shoulders, and Ben tugged her plate towards his end of the table. “Mind if I finish this, then?”

“You—um, sure.” He didn’t suspect anything? Rey smiled, relieved. Today was her lucky day. 

Her gaze swung to the fridge. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice something was missing. Maybe she should up and vanish before he had enough time to realize what was going on. Good plan. She abruptly stood from her chair and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Back to season two,” she announced. Eleven was about to face down the creepy Mind Flayer for the first time. 

Ben grunted and yanked her into his lap. “Here,” he said, hovering a fork in front of her mouth. There was roast beef on the tines.

She made a face. Hadn't she just told him she ate already? “Uh, no thanks?” 

He prodded insistently at her lips. “Open up.”

“Are you gonna start chugging like a choo-choo train? Because I _will_ tuck and roll my ass out of—“

“Rey.” He was using his serious voice. “Please eat. I’ve never seen you turn down food before, and I know you're lying about eating earlier.”

Her stomach gurgled uncomfortably. So much cake, so much icing. Why was she like this? Why was she such a slut for baked goods? Damnit! 

“Pass,” she said flippantly, squirming in his grasp. Her toes skimmed the kitchen tile. 

Ben banded an arm across her chest, restricting her movement. “This is a no passing zone.”

Rey briefly closed her eyes. Dad jokes. “I’m serious, Ben, I’m already full—“

“What did you eat, then? Hm?” His breath was hot in her ear. “All the leftovers are still in the fridge, and I know you didn’t cook anything.” 

She grumbled, but only because this was true. There was no way she’d tell him what she’d actually been doing. The horrified look she imagined was punishment enough. 

“Shall I open the fridge?”

“No…” she said, but he swiveled in the chair like he was about to rise. 

“Wait!” she cried, kicking her feet. She repositioned herself in his lap and kissed him on the mouth. He pulled back, but she followed, keeping their mouths linked. 

Ben inhaled sharply through his nose and broke their lip-lock. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were ytrying to distract me, Rey.”

“Am I succeeding?” She kissed the five o’clock shadow on his jaw and wondered for the ten thousandth time why not eight or nine or ten o’clock. 

His chest heaved with a big sigh. “A little too well.”

She smiled and resumed kissing his jaw, the bristles tickling her cheeks. “You’re overdue for a shave.”

“You don’t like Hairy Ben?”

“No, and I really don’t like the third-person reference.” 

“Noted,” he grunted, spreading his thighs. “What did you eat?”

She shook her head and kissed his chin. Yeah, right. 

“Rey, what did you eat that you don’t want me to know?”

She hummed noncommittally and planted a trail of kisses down his neck. Ben shuddered and dipped his hands below the waistband of her shorts to palm her ass. She shrieked when he suddenly squeezed—the touch of his bare hands on that particular area of bare skin was electrifying. Her denim shorts pulled taut across her thighs. 

“Tell me,” he growled, rubbing his stubble over her cheeks. 

Rey laughed helplessly and ducked her head. “You’ll be mad.”

“You know I won’t.” He tenderly kissed the hollow of her throat. Her breath caught on a moan. “Tell me.”

“Cake,” she muttered, pushing her face into his neck. 

“What was that?”

“Cake!” she cried, defeated. “I ate the cake!”

He pulled away and blinked quickly. “You ate...the cake? All of it?”

She laughed again. “No, no! Only about…” Oh shit, she’d eaten at least half, hadn’t she? “A quarter or so.” 

“Rey…” His hands squeezed her ass again, and she grinned mischievously. 

“Fine! Half, I ate _half_ the damn cake. Happy?” she muttered, kissing the corners of his mouth. He tasted like barbecue sauce. 

A laugh rumbled through him, and she couldn’t help but catch it in her mouth. Hey, it wasn’t entirely her fault. Chocolate was her weakness! As was pizza and sushi and Chinese takeout and dragon noodles and fried chicken and—

“Your tummy’s going to hurt.” Ben’s voice was low, and he brushed a kiss across her forehead, once...twice...

“Tummy?” she murmured, leaning into him. “That’s an odd choice. Why not _midsection_? That's far more proper.”

“Well, I feel very _im_ proper around you,” he admitted softly, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Sometimes I just want to gather you up in my arms and ravish you senseless.”

“Doesn’t mean you should baby-talk me,” she mumbled, although… Well, she wasn’t exactly arguing against it. 

“Mm.” Ben sucked on her neck, and she knew that in a few hours there’d be a shiny hickey just below the curve of her jaw. “You have me wrapped around your little finger, you know that?”

Her stomach fluttered. These were butterflies though, not nerves. A pleasant sensation. Rey shrugged modestly, flushing.

He laughed into her neck. “You _do_ know that, sweetheart. There’s no way you don’t.”

“Maybe I’m wrapped around _your_ finger,” she countered, drawing one of his hands from her shorts. She gripped his wrist and studied his fingers. “Though I don’t think we can consider any of them _little_.” 

“Why’s that?” His eyes dropped to her mouth as she drew his finger near. 

“No part of you is little.” Rey locked eyes with him. “I’m assuming.”

With deliberate slowness, she touched the tip of his finger to her lips. Her tongue flickered out briefly to lick the length of it, and then she sucked it fully into her mouth. 

“Christ,” Ben breathed. His hips jerked, as if seeking release. Which was _so_ hot she bit back a moan. 

Pleased with herself—Rey had never included _seductress_ in her repertoire of skills for a reason—she watched emotions flit across his face as she sucked on his finger. That wasn’t the only appendage she wanted to suck, and if today’s endeavors had taught her anything, it was that she was _this_ close to tackling him to the floor. 

“You taste good,” she murmured, eyes heavy. If she wasn’t careful, she would absolutely devour him, right here, right now, in the middle of the kitchen, in the middle of the goddamn day. 

“I bet you taste better,” Ben said huskily, gently extracting his finger from her mouth. He replaced it with his lips, sipping and licking like he meant to savor her taste too. 

His fingers unsnapped the clasp of her shorts, and Rey was yanking the hem of his shirt out of his slacks when a shrill keening interrupted the silence. 

Her immediate first thought was: Dyad? But no, the kitten was in the living room, batting around a plastic ball with a bell inside that tinkled every time he pawed at it. 

Ben’s eyes were zeroed in on the staircase, and her stomach dropped. She touched his cheek, and they gazed at each other in mutual sorrow. 

“Fucking _Zoom_ ,” they cursed.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1:39 p.m.

Rey was in the bedroom again. 

She paced back and forth in front of the closed closet door. Wringing her hands, biting her lip, she ran over the pros and cons again in her mind.

** Pros: **

1\. No more secrets.  
2\. More shelf space.  
3\. She wouldn’t have to worry about Ben stumbling across it and asking uncomfortable questions.  
4\. Extra room for the yarn that was currently overflowing the bookcases.  
5\. Ben would be proud of her.

** Cons: **

1\. No spare food in case of emergency.  
2\. Possibly overwhelming regret for dismantling something she’d worked so hard on.  
3\. No spare food.  
4\. Ben might catch her emptying the shelves and wonder why she was carrying food out of the closet like a freak.  
5\. No spare food. 

Rey shook her head. “Not today, Satan.”

Downstairs in the living room, she angrily jabbed at the controls of her Nintendo Switch.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2:45 p.m.

Rey had finally clocked six hundred and forty hours on _Animal Crossing_. A milestone, yes, but one that was debatably good. 

Well, according to Ben. _She_ thought it was fucking fantastic. 

“I even managed to get rid of Filbert,” she continued, scouring the ocean for air bubbles. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, the new summer update was alarmingly addicting. She found the deep-diving activities very soothing. 

“Uh-huh,” Ben said, hunched over his laptop screen. Because he was an absolute _nerd_ , he not only owned a Mac but a desktop computer _and_ an additional keyboard. Apparently the laptop keys were too tiny for his giant's hands. 

They were in his study. Ben, naturally, was working, and Rey was sitting in a plush armchair adjacent to his desk, feet propped on a tiny ottoman, tap-tapping away at her Switch controls. She'd gotten bored in the living room, so she’d skipped her way up to Ben’s neck of the woods and... _ingratiated_ herself. Which was really just a polite way of saying she marched into his study and refused to leave. So far he’d hosted two Zoom meetings, and not one person on either call had noticed her. 

“Marina replaced him,” she explained. 

“Who?”

“Marina? The adorable pink octopus?”

“No, who did she replace?” Ben tapped on the touch screen of his laptop and typed something in a spreadsheet.

“Oh, _Filbert_. Remember him? He was that annoying squirrel who wouldn’t leave me alone while I was terraforming.” 

“I see,” he said, and Rey had to admit he was following along quite well for someone who was also managing an entire business department. “Who’s your favorite?”

“...hm?” She had just shot down a floating package before it soared over the ocean and became lost to her forever. The slingshot was her mortal enemy. 

“Favorite...villager? Is that right? Or citizens?” Ben tapped his pen on the side of the desk. 

“No, you’re right. Villagers.” She briefly smiled over at him. “You remembered!”

Ben winked. “I do my best.”

Nook’s Cranny rewarded her with twenty thousand bells, which was the game's cute alternative for real-world currency. Not too shabby.

“My favorite is Stitches,” Rey said, changing back into her wetsuit. “He’s the multicolored bear who’s lazy as hell but the literal _cutest_.” 

“Stitches,” he repeated, and jotted a note down.

“Uh-huh. Rex is a good one too. Also lazy, but he’s not _nearly_ as pretty.” 

“Oh, so aesthetics are important to you?” he teased. 

“Obviously!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want an ugly rhino or—god forbid— _armadillo_ taking up residence on my island. Just imagine the publicity. The _drama_.” Her villagers were well-known gossips. _Well-known_ relative to the fictional island and...well, her. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement on his screen. “You’re getting a call.”

A second later the shrill notes of an incoming Zoom call filled the air. Ben groaned and clicked ACCEPT. A woman’s face popped up on-screen. Her smile was blinding, but then Rey was distracted by a finned fish. She perked up; this could be her very first great white shark! 

“Ben!” the woman exclaimed. “Glad I caught you. I have a few quick questions to run by you before I hand my report off to Wexley.”

“Go ahead,” he said, crossing his arms. 

Vaguely annoyed by their talking—hello, she was playing a very important game here!—Rey glanced up and nearly fell out of her chair. The woman chatting animatedly with Ben was blonde and smiley and had perfect, smooth skin. She was wearing a nice cream blouse and a necklace with the distinctive Chanel logo around her neck.

The HR woman. What was her name? Rey’s memory was notoriously shit, but she recalled this little tidbit with ease: Satine Kryze. 

Rey leaned forward in her chair, forgetting all about _Animal Crossing_. Was Satine wearing a wedding ring? She kept her hands out of view so it was difficult for Rey to tell. 

_I swear to god, if she starts flirting with him again while I’m right here—_

She gritted her teeth and growled angrily in the back of her throat as Satine tossed back her hair, laughing at another stupid dad joke. _Seriously_ , Ben? She doubted he could help being so charming--she had firsthand experience--but it _really_ wasn’t working in his favor now. 

Seething, Rey moved her feet off the ottoman, intending to stalk over and maybe possibly crawl into Ben’s lap and bite his neck—because that was an appropriate response—when instead she knocked her Switch clean off the armchair. It skittered across the floor, and Rey bounced out of her seat, stumbling over a hardcover book. She snatched it up with a horrified gasp, running a hand over the screen. 

_Please don’t let there be any dents or cracks oh god please—_

Belatedly, she realized the conversation had stopped. Her eyes widened. Oh. 

Swiveling on her heels, Rey smiled awkwardly and muttered, “Sorry, I thought I broke it.”

She clutched the Switch to her chest as Ben stood and approached her. Was he angry? She wouldn’t blame him. This was _his_ study, _his_ space to manage work and do whatever his bosses demanded of him (and they demanded a lot). He was in the middle of a serious work meeting, and she’d totally disregarded—

Ben gently pulled the Switch from her hands. “Is it broken?”

She blinked and stammered, “N-no, just a scratch, I think.”

He hummed and wandered back over to his desk. Rey scampered after him like a worried puppy, eyeing his face and her Switch. 

“Some toothpaste should do the trick,” Ben announced, sitting in his desk chair. He laid aside the Switch like it was a fine piece of glass and smiled up at her. “No worries, sweetheart.” 

Rey’s attention was split between the casual endearment, her precious game—now woefully out of reach—and Satine Kryze, who was still on the laptop screen, eyes wide and curious and _watching them_.

“Okay,” Rey said slowly. “Thanks.”

Ben cupped her face in his warm palms and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Meeting,” he said, inclining his head at the desk, and Rey quickly nodded. Right. 

“I’ll be...downstairs?” That seemed a safe bet.

She started to pull back, but Ben held her in place and kissed her again, lingering this time. His eyes made promises that spoke of future kisses, and her toes curled. 

Ben reluctantly released her and swiveled back to the screen. She cast one last sorrowful glance at her abandoned Switch and backed out of the study. 

“That’s my girlfriend,” Ben explained calmly. “She’s obsessed with that Crossing game. I’m sure you’ve heard of it by now.”

Satine nodded, eyebrows crinkling. “She seems _awfully_ young…”

“She’s my girlfriend,” he repeated firmly, and tapped the screen. “Anyway, Wexley just emailed me about the report, and I gave him the go-ahead to…”

Rey slipped downstairs, picturing again and again the startled look on Satine’s face as Ben kissed her a second time. She giggled like a schoolgirl and suppressed a smirk. _Take that, HR woman!_

Hopefully Ben wasn’t just pretending to be okay with her interruption though. The last thing she wanted was to get him in trouble, especially when it was her own fault for being a clumsy fool. 

But then Rey realized that he hadn’t apologized for the interruption at all. He hadn’t apologized for _her_. 

A smile touched the corners of her lips, and she sank to her knees in the living room, calling quietly for Dyad.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4:19 p.m.

She would not think about the stockpile. She would not _obsess_ about the stockpile.

She would not pace the hallway outside the bedroom, hands clasped tightly behind her, and think about the stockpile. She would not enter the room, stare at the closet door for an unspecified amount of time, and worry about the stockpile. She would not reach for the knob, shake her head, and exit the bedroom while thinking about the stockpile. She would not repeat the whole cycle half a dozen times and think about the stockpile. 

She absolutely would not do any of that.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5:23 p.m.

Rey clapped her hands and surged from the sofa. “Shall we play a game?” 

Dyad jumped and flattened his little ears.

“Oh,” she cooed, apologetic. “Sorry, cutie.”

The kitten flicked his tail, unconvinced, and disappeared under the armchair. 

“What are you saying?” Ben walked out of the kitchen, dishrag in hand. His hair was deliciously tousled, and she had to resist the urge to shove her face in it. 

“I’m bored,” she declared, skirting around him as he playfully reached for her. “We should play a game.”

“What kind of game?” 

The kitchen still smelled like dinner: roasted potatoes and turkey tetrazzini. All the dishes were washed, the counters wiped clean, and someone—in other words, Ben—had lit a candle. Bergamot. The townhouse was quiet, the sky outside just starting to dim with the setting sun, and Rey was feeling restless. She needed a distraction from both the upcoming tele-health visit and her stockpile dilemma.

There was only one distraction worthy of the job.

Rey skipped into the kitchen and opened a tall cabinet. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

She was extremely pleased with the results. Smirnoff Vodka. Pineapple juice. Cranberry juice. White sangria. Red and white wine. Jose Cuervo tequila. Kahlua, one of her favorites. Even some margarita mix and an unopened bottle of Fireball. She snorted. The eternal drink of the frat boys. 

“You weren’t in a fraternity in college, right?” she asked Ben, extracting several bottles.

He rolled his eyes. “You know I wasn’t.”

“Just wondering!” she sang innocently. “That means we can consume the Fireball without feeling guilty.” She handed him the tequila and cinnamon whiskey.

“What’s this about?”

She peeked over her shoulder. “Games, Ben. Games.” 

“Drinking games? On a Wednesday evening?”

Rey laughed and gestured with the sangria. “You sound like such an old man. Live a little.”

“Are you...in a good mood?”

She shrugged. “T.G.I.W.” 

Ben sighed and followed her into the living room. They arranged the bottles on the coffee table along with several glasses and wine openers. Rey didn’t waste any time pouring out a generous portion of sangria. 

“What game do you have in mind?” Ben topped off his glass of red wine, the Responsible Adult drink, and raised an eyebrow. They were seated on opposite ends of the couch—Rey with her knees pulled up to her chest, Ben with his legs stretched across the cushions. His socked foot tapped her ankle. 

Rey examined him over the rim of her glass. Still wearing those slacks and dress shirt with the straining buttons. Ah, how cruel the fates. He looked good enough to eat, and with a little splash of alcohol to bolster her up….

“Let’s start with a good old fashioned game of Truth or Dare.” 

“Okay,” Ben agreed—almost too quickly. She didn’t want to be suspicious about that but— No, she was suspicious. “You first.”

“Truth or dare.”

Ben watched her closely. “Truth.” 

Rey tamped down a smirk. “What was the last thing you searched on your phone?”

He seemed faintly surprised. “Ah, I looked up a tetrazzini recipe for dinner.”

“I’ll trust you on that,” she said, narrowing her eyes. Rey _did_ believe him, of course; she just liked messing with him sometimes. “Now you.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” For now, anyway.

“First kiss?”

 _Oh, so we’re diving right into it, huh?_

Rey sipped her sangria. “Finn. Back in high school.”

“Really?” 

“He didn’t know he was gay yet,” she said, shrugging. “Or...I don’t know, he was figuring it out. Something like that.”

Ben nodded, and she said, “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

This threw her off. She’d expected them to trade truths all night. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Ben asked, smirking.

She tossed a pillow at his head. “I’m _thinking_.” 

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. She tried not to stare at the curve of his throat. “Any day now.”

“I dare you to call a random number and try to flirt with whoever picks up.”

Ben’s head snapped down. “ _Excuse_ me?” 

She blinked innocently. “Did I stutter?” 

He grumbled but slipped his phone out of his back pocket. “And what exactly do you mean by _try_?” 

“Ben,” she said, then had to pause for a laugh. He did not appreciate it. “Oh, Ben. You are very cute and _very_ adorable, but I think it’s safe to say flirting is not your forte.”

“Excuse me?” he spluttered, utterly shocked. “I flirt with you!” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count.” She held up a hand before he could protest and ignored the thrill that passed through her body--he freely admitted he flirted with her? “We know each other too well.”

“So you’re saying that if I tried to flirt with a stranger, I’d just be…?”

She shrugged and daintily sipped her drink. “Awkward.”

Ben huffed and made indignant noises while typing in a random number. He showed her the keypad, and she nodded her approval. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” he muttered.

“Mm.” _This oughta be good._ “Speakerphone.”

Ben grimaced but pressed a button on the keypad. Loud ringing filled the room. One beat, then two, then three passed, and just when a faint glimmer of hope began to swim in Ben’s eyes—

“Hello?”

Some of the tension left Rey’s body. The voice was decidedly male. Even though this had been _her_ dare, she still would’ve been insanely uncomfortable watching her boyfriend flirt with another woman. _Maybe,_ she admitted silently, _I didn’t quite think this all the way through._ Then again, what else was new. 

“Is anybody there?” The voice was not only male, but _old_ and—dare she say— _crotchety_ too. 

Ben’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “Uh, hello.”

Rey covered her mouth to contain her giggles. Oh, this was too much. She deserved to win an award for best game idea in the history of game ideas.

Ben stalled, and she waved her free hand frantically for him to go on. _Say something_ , she mouthed. 

“Uh, good evening, sir.” 

“Yes? What do you want?” 

“I’m calling in regards to your...inquest,” he said, in a much deeper voice than before.

 _Here we go._

“What?” the old man barked. “What inquest?”

“You sound upset, sir,” Ben all but purred. Rey’s mouth hung open, but as her hand was still covering it, he thankfully couldn’t tell. “Please, Mr…”

“Ackbar,” the man grumbled. 

“Mr. Ackbar. I hate to interrupt what I’m sure is a wonderful evening, but I first must ask you something of great import.” Ben’s voice was low and soothing, like a radio announcer. 

Maybe that was why Mr. Ackbar said, “Well, alright, then.”

Ben lowered his voice so it was nearly a growl. Her eyes widened, heart quickening in her chest. “This is most important. Are you listening?”

Ben kept his eyes locked on Rey’s. They stared at each other, unblinking, as they waited for the old man's response.

A dry cough. “Oh, uh, yes, I am listening.”

His lips curved in a slow, sly smile. _Oh my._ Rey's whole body clenched, and a shiver ran down her spine. She liked that look on him. She liked it _very_ much.

“Very good. Now, Mr. Ackbar, please tell me…” Ben trailed off breathlessly, and both Rey and—she assumed—Mr. Ackbar waited on the edge of their seats for whatever he would say next. 

He licked his lips and murmured, “Is your refrigerator running?”

Quickly, before the man could respond, Ben slammed a finger down on the END CALL button and tossed his phone to the sofa as if it were on fire. 

“Well.” He swallowed, and for a beat, there was only silence.

Then Rey was _roaring_ with laughter. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, and screamed into the sofa cushions. Her whole body shook with wave upon wave of laughter. 

“ _Is your refrigerator running?_ ” she gasped shrilly. “ _Why the hell—_ “ But she broke off, unable to continue. Tears spurted from her eyes like a faucet had been turned on somewhere inside her. Facedown, body shaking uncontrollably with pure mirth, Rey felt—for a brief but memorable moment—light as air. 

A hand gently ran down her back as she coughed and struggled to regain her composure. 

“Oh god,” she gasped, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, that was—“ A laugh hiccuped out of her. “ _Very_ unexpected.”

“Did I pass?” he asked solemnly. 

She nodded and wiped a thumb under her eye. “Uh, yeah, with flying colors.” 

He suppressed what seemed like a very smug—or maybe just self-satisfied—smile and said, “Your turn. Truth or dare.”

Rey settled back against the opposite arm of the sofa and rolled her lips thoughtfully. Should she take a page out of his book and pick dare? Or keep it safe?

“Dare,” she blurted. Instantly her chest seized, but she didn’t regret it. Not when they were having this much fun. 

Though she did gulp down half a glass of sangria. Just in case.

Ben eyed her speculatively. “I dare you to tell me your happiest memory.” Her eyebrows skyrocketed to her hairline, and he quickly amended, “ _One_ of them.” 

Rey bit her lip and slumped down on the cushion, using the sofa arm as a headrest. She kept her eyes on the blank white ceiling. “The day I moved into my apartment. That's a happy memory.”

Silence rang for a long ten seconds before she managed enough courage to go on. “I signed the lease, and the leasing department gave me the keys as soon as all the paperwork was done. Two hours later the cleaning crew had finished and I was allowed to move in. Just like that.” 

Rey had been surprised by the simple, straightforward process. Her credit score was great—never had a need for credit cards or any substantial loans—and the paperwork wasn’t too garbled. Everyone had been very polite, and the woman at the front desk had even handed over a brand new air freshener. _So it smells like home._

“I remember unlocking the front door and thinking— _Holy shit. This place is mine_.” Even now, the memory ached. All that empty space, just waiting to be filled. No ugly marks or time-out corner. No locked pantry or heavy wooden spoon. Just clean surfaces and slightly stale air. Rey laughed self-consciously. “All mine. A place I could finally return to at the end of the day and tell anyone who asked, _I live here_.” 

Of course, it had never truly been home. Not like here. Not like Ben. 

She swallowed, suddenly shy, and dragged her eyes from the ceiling. Ben’s expression was tight but otherwise placid, like a still lake. 

“Your turn," she said. "Truth or dare.”

“Truth."

And Rey blurted, “What don’t you like about me?” Immediately mortified, she tried to backstep. “Shit, that’s not what I wanted to ask—“

“I can answer,” he said softly, “if you want.”

She bit down hard on her lip and nodded before she could think too much about the consequences. It would certainly be humbling to hear her faults listed in no uncertain terms from the man she loved. 

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

_Say it._

“I don’t like that your life’s been so hard,” he said in a low voice. A voice meant only for her ears. “I don’t like that you’re too sad some days to get out of bed. I don’t like that you flinch around big bodies of water. I don’t like that scarves bring up bad memories, and trash overwhelms you, and sudden touches throw you into a frenzy.” He swallowed heavily. “I don’t like that you’ve been hurt, and I wasn’t around to stop it.” 

“It’s not your fault—“ Rey whispered, stricken.

“I know,” he said instantly, “but I still wish I’d been there.”

She cupped her chin in her palms to still the shaking and said, “Truth or dare, Ben.”

He didn’t hesitate. "Truth." But before she could even open her mouth, he added, “Rey, I’m in love with you.”

A soft, strangled noise broke free of her mouth. Her eyes watered again, but not from laughter. Ben’s own eyes were locked on her, his expression grave. 

Not knowing what to do or say, she tried again. “Truth or dare.” 

“Truth.”

“Do you want kids?” 

“Yes.” Heated eyes. No hesitation. 

“How many?”

His lips curved. “At least two. But the limit does not exist.”

She nearly smiled then. He was quoting _Mean Girls_ at her. Because of _course_ he was. 

“Truth,” he said again. 

“Who is one person you pretend to like but actually don’t?”

“Poe Dameron.”

Now she _did_ laugh. Poe Dameron. She couldn’t blame him. Poe was a hard pill to swallow, but she did so for Finn’s sake. Usually. 

“Truth,” she said, beating him to the punch.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Her lips trembled on a shaky, “Yes.”

Ben’s eyes darkened. “Truth.”

“Do you ever plan on marrying?”

“Yes,” he said, eyes riveted to her face. “One day. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” 

They were both silent. 

“Rey,” he whispered hoarsely. He was already reaching for her. 

_Finally, finally, finally._

“I love you.” 

Ben stilled, and so did the trees and the clouds and the wind and the world. So did the world. 

“I love you,” Rey repeated, and her body was clean and weightless and bright like a sun. Again: “I love you.” 

_Finally._ She couldn’t say it enough. She would never say it enough. If it were possible to only speak one thing for the rest of her life, it would be those three words. Again and again and again, and only to him. 

“I love you, Ben.” 

And she was shifting, moving, reaching for _him_. Crawling across the sofa cushions, closing the distance between them. Settling into his lap, cradling his face in her palms, staring at his mouth and nose and eyes and cheeks. Staring at _him_. 

At him.

“I love you and I like you,” she said, quoting _Parks and Rec_ because it was beautiful and true. “I love you, and I’m _in_ love with you. I have been for a while.” She sighed and gazed at his mouth again. “ _Such_ a long time.”

_Finally, finally, finally._

“I love you, Ben,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his parted ones, “and I...I want you. Here and now and always. I want you.”

For a moment counted only in heartbeats or blinks or slow, heavy breaths, she and Ben stared at each other. _Only_ each other because that’s how it always was and how it would always be. Across time and space and very likely worlds too, if she had any say in the matter. 

Together.

Rey breathed him in--breathed in _this_ moment and _this_ place and _this_ man--and as the world realigned itself around them, she closed the gap and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **YES i upped the chapter count by one AGAIN but only because next chap deserves its own space for all the incoming**
> 
> **s m u t**
> 
> say hi!  
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	16. Like Life Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> commence the fluff & smut with our one-braincell dyad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **apologies for the delay!!! i've been stalled on this for a while, but my goal is to have this fic completed by the end of the month uh so we'll see! 👀 thanks 4 ur patience!**
> 
> **......but also this is 15k oop 😳**
> 
> **✖️note additional tags✖️**

** DAY TWELVE—part II **

** BEN'S POV **

If ever there was a sight so beautiful in this world or any other, Ben Solo knew it could only be the vision before him.

She kneeled between his legs, eyes wide and alert and so full of understanding that it took his breath away. Her body was canted towards him, like he was the sun and she the moon, or earth, or stars—which was ridiculous as it only worked the other way round. _She_ was the one at the center of the universe; _she_ was the one around which all else revolved. 

Rey was the sun, and Ben her most devout worshipper. 

When they met years ago on that street corner, in line at that food vendor, Ben had still been consumed by thoughts of his parents and everything they’d left behind only months earlier. Oh, sure, their house and trinkets and cars needed to be liquidated, but most importantly—him. Han and Leia had left him behind, and at the time he didn’t know if he would ever move past that hollow space where his parents once lived. 

That day was a bad day—one of many. A day of creeping numbness and cold detachment, even as the sun shone high in the cloudless, early summer sky, as young families strolled past on the sidewalks, trailed by laughter and love, as the world continued to move on around him while he remained stuck in a place with no light, no laughter, no love.

He heard her voice first.

“Oh, um, I’m a little short.” A nervous laugh. 

The cashier had grimaced sympathetically, but it was clear they wouldn’t give the food away for free. That wasn’t how the world worked. He knew it, and something in her voice told him that she knew it too. She knew it and was prepared to bend to its will. 

Ben turned around.

She stood very close to him. A slim girl. Tall, maybe a bit more than average. She couldn't be much older than eighteen. Shoulder-length brown hair. Green eyes like dewy moss. Lightly tanned skin like she spent a lot of time outdoors. Thin-boned. She was wearing baggy, paint-splattered overalls. A soft smile, but only when she caught him staring. Before that, a look of abject despair, quickly concealed. 

Ben didn’t like that look, and he especially didn’t like it on this girl. 

“I’ll cover her,” he told the cashier, and they shrugged and accepted his credit card. 

The girl gaped, but then her lips returned to that soft, lovely smile, and she had jerked her chin towards an abandoned outdoor table. “Um, do you wanna sit?”

He did. 

“I’m Ben,” he said, after awkwardly settling himself on the too-small bench. She’d thanked him profusely for paying, but he waved it off, the tips of his ears blushing pink. 

“I’m Rey,” she said finally, and extended a hand. Her grip was strong—no-nonsense. Ben had found himself reluctant to let go. “What are you doing?”

He blinked and glanced down at his noodles. “Sorry?”

She laughed, and Ben’s entire body clenched at the sound. “No, I mean— Today. What are you doing _here_?”

He was dazzled, and it took a few heartbeats for him to give an answer. That _laugh_.“I’m, ah, on break.”

“Oh, lunch break?” She shoved a spoonful of rice into her mouth and chomped away like it was totally normal to be inhaling Asian food while talking to a complete stranger like they’d known each other for years. 

“No,” he said slowly, “I took the rest of the day off from work.”

“Oh,” she managed, swallowing hard and immediately shoving in another mouthful of rice. “That’s nice.”

Instead of asking the obvious question— _where do you work?_ —Rey chattered on about the weather and the tourists and a project she was working on at her new apartment. Ben stared at her, completely mesmerized. A thought occurred to him when she paused for breath.

“Are you alone?”

She finished guzzling a Big Gulp-sized iced tea and frowned like this was an insane question. “Of course.” 

He frowned like this was an insane answer. Because it was, but not in the way she probably imagined. 

Rey caught his expression and blushed. “Oh, no, I—I mean…” She laughed and covered her face. “That sounded dramatic.”

Ben quickly shook his head. “Not at all. It’s just—“ He rolled his lips, watching her thoughtfully. “That’s exactly what I say when someone asks _me_ that question.”

Her hands slipped from her face, and her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Really? Huh.” She tapped the edge of his plastic tray. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”

A slow smile curved his lips, and a feeling bloomed in his chest—a feeling that had been missing for months now. Looking at this girl, listening to the soft cadence of her voice, he felt almost happy. 

“Rey,” he said, interrupting another rambling response. Her head jerked up. “What are you doing here?”

And she told him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To think of how far they’d come since that first day.

“Ben,” she whispered, reaching for his face, and he leaned forward so she wouldn’t have to work for it. He didn’t want her to have to work for anything— _ever_. Maybe that was unrealistic, but he didn’t care. 

Falling in love with Rey had been easy. Maybe the easiest thing he’d ever done. Only weeks after meeting her at the noodle vendor, Ben knew he was toast. Friends, he could work with— _best_ friends was even better. But it wasn’t what he wanted long-term. 

There wasn’t a singular moment in which Ben fell hopelessly in love. All the movies and the books made it seem like that’s the way it always happened--indifference or mild affection one moment, then all-consuming infatuation or love the next. 

But for him, it happened when she kicked a rock off the sidewalk and accidentally flung her flip-flop into rush-hour traffic. It happened when she held her arms out to her sides and tilted her face up to the sun with a big, unself-conscious grin on her face. It happened every time she touched his face and wrapped herself in a blanket and fixed her hair in a mirror. Every time she smiled and laughed and called his name. 

Falling in love was not and would never be a singular act. It was on-going—an eternal process. Every second of every day Ben fell deeper and deeper in love with Rey, and if this was to be his fate—friendship, companionship, a shoulder for her to lean on—he would reach for it with open hands and thank the stars for such a gift.

But then she looked at him, and she spoke the words: “I love you, Ben.”

And he finally allowed himself to admit that anything less would never have been enough. 

Friends, best friends, roommates. If that was it for him, if that was their fate, Ben would’ve gone along. He would’ve been a friend when she needed one and a best friend if she wanted it. He would’ve followed her across the country—across the goddamned world—and bought a house or a condo or an apartment right next door just to be close to her. He would’ve stopped by her work to gauge how she was doing and brought her food at the end of the day to make sure she was still eating. He would’ve stuck around even if her attention flagged, and maybe, eventually, he would’ve found a way to move past the pain. 

Maybe. 

Perhaps that made him pathetic. Perhaps it made him a hopeless romantic in the truest sense of the word. But it didn’t matter. On that day so long ago, the day when Ben turned and saw her for the very first time, so young and fresh and innocent, his whole world had realigned itself. 

_I’m Rey,_ she’d said, and a part of him had whispered, _I know._

Sun, moon, stars. She was the whole damned _galaxy._

And now, here she was, sweet and vulnerable and touching him like she couldn’t believe any of this was real. 

He would prove it was.

“Rey.” He would always say her name like it was a prayer, a miracle, because that was the truth—she was a prayer answered, a miracle bestowed. A wish finally granted. 

“Was that the right time to say it?” She laughed nervously and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been thinking—and maybe I should’ve—”

“ _Rey_ ,” he repeated, sensing emotional overload. “There’s no right or wrong time to say it. Now come here.”

“Are you sure?” She stared at him, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Always cautious. Always overthinking. “Because I feel like—“

Ben surged forward and grabbed her around the waist. She shrieked, and Dyad scampered into the kitchen with his ears plastered to his head. Her hands went to his chest, balling the fabric up in tight little fists. She was so fucking tiny, and the thought of her beneath him, skin soft and flushed, made a shiver ripple down his spine in a slow, tight wave. 

“This is better,” he said in a low voice. He wrapped her into a hug, pressing his forehead to her temple. “This is much, much better. I wish you could just stay here.”

“In your arms?” she asked tentatively, tracing a light finger on the pulse of his wrist. His entire body thrilled at her touch. She was an electric wire, and he only came alive when she got too close.

“In my arms. By my side. _With_ me.” Ben heaved them off the sofa and strode for the stairs. She shifted, alarmed by the sudden movement, and clutched the back of his neck. Her breath fanned across his collarbones, and he suppressed another shiver. Goddamnit. He wanted to inhale her like a drug, inject her straight into his veins. 

In his room—no, _their_ room—Ben gently set her on the bed. She didn’t lie back and blink seductively up at him; she didn’t strike a pose or try to entice him down with her—that wasn’t Rey’s style. She simply scrambled to her knees and reached for him, expression soft and open and yearning.

For him. Ben still couldn’t believe it. Months and years of pining for her, and now it was finally being reflected back at him. The desire, the lust, the _love_ he felt for her every day now recognized and reciprocated. She wanted him back. Rey _wanted_ him. 

He inhaled shakily and moved to the edge of the bed. She watched him, unmoving, hands tucked in her lap. Not shaking, he noted, which was good. She wasn’t scared. Nervous, maybe, but not scared. He never wanted her to fear him, in _any_ capacity. 

“Your eyes are so dark,” she said in a soft voice, peering at him through the gloom of the bedroom. The sun was long set, and there weren’t any lights on, which would have to be amended, and soon. He needed to see her— _all_ of her. 

Rey nervously licked her lips. “Like a big cat.”

He felt like one. Prowling towards her, focused so intensely their surroundings seemed paper-thin in comparison to the realness of her. He didn’t want to call it stalking, not in the traditional sense, but he knew that if she moved, if she tried to flee now, he would stop her. He meant what he’d said earlier—he would never let her go. Not easily. Not willingly. 

A word thrummed through him then, basic and primal and vicious: _mine._

Rey made a quiet sound, almost a gasp, as Ben set one knee on the edge of the bed and crowded her flat on the mattress. She collapsed backward off her knees, huffing a startled laugh as she fell. Her hair spread around her head like a dark halo, mouth wide open, teeth peeping behind parted pink lips, and when her eyes met his they lightened, went soft and gentle and jade green—his favorite color. 

Ben swallowed and tried to reign himself in. If he wasn’t careful he would fall apart here and now before they started. He would devour her before he could give her pleasure. That couldn’t happen—not yet. First, he would give her everything she deserved, and then some.

Ben nudged her legs apart and kneeled between them—a reversal of their earlier positions on the sofa. He pushed her legs up until they bent and kissed the side of her knee, keeping his eyes on her face. She was watching him intently, chest rising and falling noticeably faster. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, voice low. She nodded, eyes riveted on him. Not wary, but faintly cautious, like she didn’t know what to expect and therefore wouldn’t place any expectations on him. On _this._

He made a promise to himself then—this wouldn’t just be good for her; he was going to make it fucking _exceptional_. Every touch, every taste, every seemingly insignificant sensation—he was going to sear himself into her skin, embed himself so deeply inside her they would become inseparable from this moment on. 

Without her, he was hollow. A complete person, yes, but empty inside like a husk. He was determined to show her how much she was loved. For all the years she’d suffered, and doubted, and craved—all the many moments, both small and large, she’d missed out on. 

If she asked, he would do his best to rip his heart from his chest—dramatic and obscene and near senseless, yes, but he would do it in a heartbeat, in the space of a blink. If it meant she could see his love. If it meant she could wrap herself in it and be happy.

She reached for him again, fingers twitching like her body was starting to act independently of her mind, and Ben, helpless to resist her, leaned down. He cupped her waist, careful to impose only a fraction of his weight on her, and hovered. Lips brushed, but he didn’t close the distance. She sighed, and his heart fluttered like a hummingbird that had just remembered its wings. 

Rey gazed at him, unblinking, and in her eyes he saw the inner workings of her mind—how she absorbed every inch of him, filed it away, locked the details into her memory for later, where she could review them again and again. That was part of who she was—this fastidiously detail-oriented, sometimes obsessive woman who needed to see everything, observe and examine every facet, before she allowed herself to move forward even an inch. 

She gently cradled his face, fingers light like butterfly wings, and swiped her thumbs across his cheeks. “Ben.”

A whimper climbed up his throat, but he held it back. The way she spoke his name, like he held all the good in the world—it made him breathless, the thought that she saw him like that. _Good._

“Say it,” he said thickly, eyes half-lidded and heavy. “Say my name again.” 

There was a breathless moment.

His lips trembled. “Please.”

A flicker of emotion—shock that he would beg her. Ben fractured, just a little, at the sight. She had no idea. _No_ idea.

“Ben,” she whispered again, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He closed the gap between them with a pained groan, and their mouths sank together like two magnets drawn into place. Steadily, painstakingly in place.

She tasted so sweet—like candy and wine and something light and subtle but undefinable. Like walking through the front door at the end of a long day and cozying up to a burning fire. Like lounging on the beach in mid-summer, sun soaking into tired bones, surrounded by the hush of ocean waves and the distant cry of seagulls. Like running through a field of grass just after it’s rained, when the world is quiet and damp and brand new. 

Rey inhaled, lips gliding over his, and when she gently sucked on his bottom lip he damn near lost his mind. A groan escaped from deep in his chest—almost a purr, and he felt the way her body went hot and languid at the sound, like she was melting for him. 

He pulled away, aching at the unhappy whimper she gave when their lips parted, and allowed himself a brief moment of guiltless ogling. Her cheeks were flushed a healthy pink, breasts heaving, and her eyes were half-closed and smoky with heat. Lips swollen, mouth pushing into a pout, Rey was a thing of fantasy. 

“You,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, “are so beautiful.”

Her face lit up at his words, a beacon of light in the gloom, a miniature sun, and the smile that curved her lips was enough to bring any sane man to his knees. Good thing he was already there. 

“Mm,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “No, you.”

He laughed, a quick burst of sound, at the unexpectedness of it. But her expression shifted into something earnest and insistent.

“Ben,” she added, a small furrow appearing between her eyebrows, “you’re beautiful too. Really.” 

A wave of syrupy warmth surged through his chest at her words, at the seriousness of her tone. He opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure—but she wasn’t finished.

“All your little moles,” she murmured, tracing them with the lightest touch, “here and here and...here.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to a sensitive spot on his throat. He hissed, the noise ripping from his mouth, and a bit more of his weight sank down on her. She didn’t show any signs that it was too much, so he rested there, heart thundering like a storm. 

“Your lips and cheeks and nose.” Her eyes darkened, and she breathed, “I _love_ your nose.” She peppered it with kisses, the tip of her tongue brushing his skin, and he had to make a concentrated effort not to come in his jeans like a damn teenager. 

“Your eyes are so pretty,” she continued, heedless of the effect she was having on him. Not unusual. She was so attuned to everything else that it was a little bizarre how oblivious she was when it came to his feelings for her. “Like dark chocolate or...I don’t know. But they make me feel calm. They always have.”

He swallowed, his hands unconsciously squeezing her waist. Not hard enough to hurt—never that—but enough to reassure himself that she was really here. That he was, too. That they were together, like they were meant to be. He believed that as much as he believed the sky was blue and the grass was green. 

“ _Your_ eyes are prettier,” he told her, knowing it would make her blush, and she did, but she also smacked his shoulder—little more than a pat, really. He carefully guided her hand back to his cheek. “It’s true.”

“Not a competition,” she muttered, her knees bumping against his hips. His erection was painfully hard—had been for a while, naturally—but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, especially suspended above her like this.

“Kiss me again,” she demanded, and he couldn’t tell her no. Lips met, sticky and soft and warm, and she sighed contentedly into his mouth. 

_Keep you here with me. Keep you here always._

His desperation had always been the most difficult to handle.

Ben smoothed his palms up her sides, lifting the hem of her shirt until it bunched beneath her bare breasts. Even here, she was small. Even here—no, _especially_ here—his mouth watered. Many a long night at the office had caught him daydreaming about Rey’s tits. The softness of her skin, the pink nipples, the way they would harden when he touched his tongue to the tips. How she would arch into his touch, wordlessly begging for more and more and _more_. How he longed to give it to her. 

Rey, impatient with his admiration, grasped his hands and brought them higher until he was cupping her breasts. Skin to skin. No barriers. She wasn’t wearing a bra—she’d told him years ago that it came off as soon as she stepped foot in the door at the end of the day. _At home,_ she'd explained with a shrug, _it doesn't matter, but work is a different story. I’m sure nobody would notice if I didn’t wear one, but better safe than...nipply._

Ben had certainly noticed. 

“Look at you,” he said roughly, stroking her nipples. They were hard and pebbled—waiting for him. “I’ve been dreaming of these pretty nipples, you know. For such a very long time.”

Rey gritted her teeth and said, warningly, “ _Ben_.”

“Mm.” He registered the faint pleading tone but wouldn’t acknowledge it. Yet. “Raise your arms for me, Rey.”

She did so immediately, and he had to smile at her compliance. With a quick flick of his wrists, he yanked her shirt up and over her head. She bit her lower lip, eyes wide, and he grunted at the sight of her—pliant and flushed and _willing_. Christ. 

“Very good,” he praised, needing her to know that everything she did—no matter how small or insignificant—made him so fucking proud. He would shower her with flowers and chocolates and praise every time she opened her eyes in the morning, if he could find a way to pull it off. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Rey was already doing that, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make it clear. Slowly, watching the expressions shift on her face, Ben lowered his head and swiped his tongue over her nipple. She whined and arched her back, but he tightened his grip on her waist and forced her flat again.

“You’re going to lie there and let me lick you,” he said softly, pinning her wrists to the mattress. His hard look told her to keep them there. 

She nodded—fast. “Okay.”

“Don’t make me restrain you,” he added, and she shivered. 

Pleased, he picked up where he’d left off. Swirling his tongue around the peaked red nub, Ben dragged his tongue across her skin, relishing the new taste of her. She used a combination fruity-floral lotion, something berry-infused, and it was so fucking intoxicating that he inhaled through his nose and mouth, wanting to be filled with her essence. 

He cupped both breasts—they fit easily in his palms—and took satisfaction from the fact that yet another part of him dwarfed her. Her comparative smallness _did_ things to him, and he was determined to show her precisely what those things were very soon. 

But first.

He switched to her other nipple, licking and nibbling the tops of her breasts, intent on leaving as many tender marks on her as he could. A few bruises, maybe, in strategic places, but mostly bite marks. Love bites. A way to show the world that she belonged to someone and someone belonged to her. 

Unable to resist, Ben sucked a nipple completely into his mouth. Rey whined again and began to move before she froze, remembering his warning. He hummed and sucked hard, lightly sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her breasts. He wanted to fucking devour her like a wild beast, a man deprived of sense, but so far he was managing his restraint, and that was imperative. It was only a matter of time until he lost himself, but for the moment he was going to take it nice and slow, drag it out—make her weak and trembling and pliant. Get her ready for him. 

“Ben,” she gasped, fingers digging into the mattress. “Keep—don’t—“

At that, he released her nipple with a wet pop and raised his head. “Is this okay?”

She nodded, eyes glazed. “Don’t stop. I was going to say—“ She breathed heavily. “—don’t stop.”

Lazily, he kissed the corner of her mouth and swiped his tongue over both nipples. “Of course not, baby. You don’t need to tell me that.”

She swallowed and made a soft sound in the back of her throat as he continued to lick and suck her nipples until they were red and swollen and so sensitive she cried out whenever his teeth so much as grazed the nubs. Finally, satisfied she’d endured enough for now, Ben pulled back. He unbuttoned her shorts with a quick snap.

“Hold still,” he reminded her, peeling her shorts down her legs. She shifted her hips to help him guide the material off, but otherwise kept herself immobile. He tossed the shorts over his shoulder and stared at her panties. They were thin and white and relatively plain save for a tiny little bow in the front. He licked his lips, and his cock strained in his pants as if sensing how close it was to its desired target. 

_Soon_ , he promised. _Soon._

For an endless minute, Ben simply stared. Rey’s bent legs wavered, and he placed restraining hands on both knees to keep them apart and in place. 

“Be good,” he warned, not taking his eyes off her panties. There was a small circle of dampness in the center, and he was finding it harder to breathe the longer he stared at it. Heart pumping, Ben suppressed a groan as denim stretched uncomfortably over his lap—he should’ve taken them off the second he climbed into bed, but the idea of Rey stretched naked before him while he remained fully clothed held too much appeal. 

With a harsh exhale, he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her panties and yanked once, brutally, tearing the fabric. The seams ripped all too easily, and before Ben could so much as gather his thoughts in preparation, Rey was completely bare before him. 

In Ben’s mind, his jaw went slack, his mouth hung open, his eyes glazed, and drool slipped from the corners of his mouth. In reality, he managed at least a semblance of control. An _illusion._

Barely.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered shakily, spreading his fingers on the tops of her thighs. “Jesus, I—“

But words failed him. Ben could feel the invisible chains of his control snapping one by one. Rey was wet, that much was clear. Her folds were slick and glistening, pink and plumped with arousal. She was tiny down there too, and imagining her impaled on his cock nearly drove him to convulsions. 

“Ben,” she murmured again, and damn if the sound of his name on her lips didn’t soak his briefs with pre-cum. 

“I’m here,” he rasped. That was him, a man gone a year without water. Looking at her was like staring directly at the sun—scorching but, in this case, unavoidable. “I’m right here.”

“Touch me,” she whined, pushing her knees into him. “ _Please_ , Ben.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He couldn’t catch his breath. Every subtle movement made her folds glimmer with moisture, and he licked his lips in response. It was damn near Pavlovian. “What did I say?”

“No moving,” she grumbled, eyes bright, hands fisted into the sheets. “But I—I can’t wait—I need—” Frustrated, she reached for his hand.

All at once, his control returned. Moving carefully, he caught her wrist and gently but firmly pushed it back down to the mattress. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Rey…”

She glared in response, and his lips twitched at the corners. Even naked and vulnerable, splayed before him like this, she was stubborn. 

“You’re still not _touching_ me.”

He shook his head and climbed off the bed so quickly she didn’t have time to protest. It was full dark now; he didn’t know the exact time, but the stars were out, and the moon was a brilliant white crescent in the sky overhead. Their bedroom was cast in blue-black shadows—too dark. He needed to see her. 

With a practiced flick, he flooded the room with light from the bedside lamp. It was still dim, but now Ben could see her body, not just outlined but highlighted by the contrast of shadow and light. Rey’s lips were downturned, and he returned to the bed quickly, smoothing a hand down her taut stomach. 

“Just need to see you better,” he reassured her softly, stroking the undersides of her thighs. “That’s all, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re not,” she said, voice quiet, “but I need your hands on me.”

And what could he say to that?

His eyes traveled the length of her—long, tanned legs, firm thighs, a narrow waist, small breasts that fit in the palms of his hands like they were made to be cupped by him and him alone. Her ribs and collarbones weren’t prominent, but they were visible enough to remind him how small she was, how easily he could crush her should he forget himself. Rey was not fragile, not by any means, not even when she was in the midst of a debilitating episode, but she was still breakable. The delicate curve of her throat, the line of her cheekbones, the openness of her expression—all capable of being damaged. 

“You are…” Words failed him. Impatient, Rey slid her hands over his where they rested on her thighs.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. “You look…” She struggled to find the right word, examining his face, and finally settled on, “Sad.” 

Ben shook his head quickly. “Not sad,” he assured her, flexing his fingers. Her touch was featherlight but hot—burning, almost. “Just...reminding myself to be careful.”

“You’re always careful,” she whispered, eyes soft. “I trust you, Ben.”

His throat tightened at the sincerity in her words. He would _not_ fuck this up. She didn’t trust easily—or ever, for that matter. He would make sure she knew her trust was honored. 

Ben slid his hands beneath her thighs and lowered himself to the bed so his mouth aligned with her entrance. God, the sight of it made him salivate. He was determined to make this so fucking good for her. 

“You are the most…” He had to stop and start over, lest his voice fail him. “Rey.”

“ _What_ ,” she gasped, already breathless. He heard the yearning in her voice, the _need_ for him, and yet another invisible band of control snapped clean in half. 

“I love you.” 

It was insufficient. Those three little words were just that—little. They couldn’t encompass his devastating desire for her, the world-altering depth of his devotion. Love? What he felt was a hundred times that. A _thousand_ times that. 

But for now, it would do.

“I love you,” he repeated, and pressed close to her core, inhaling deeply. She smelled damp and slightly fruity—her lotion again. “ _Rey_.”

“Ben,” she said, and from the sound of it he knew she was clenching her teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, you know.”

“Mm, that _is_ my intention,” he murmured, inhaling again. Fuck. He needed to bottle this scent up and keep it next to his bedside so he could spritz the air when needed. 

“Can I...can I move my hands now?” She sounded hesitant, if a little irritated, and the fact that she was asking permission, that she was checking with him first before making a move, pleased him on a level so basic, so _animal_ , he nearly growled. 

“In a second,” he promised, gently pushing her thighs wider so he could settle his shoulders beneath them. Her legs lifted over his shoulders like it was second nature, like they’d already done this a hundred other times, and damned if he wasn’t determined to do just that. He wouldn’t stop at a hundred. There was no number large enough to satisfy him. 

“ _Ben_ ,” she said, and now her voice snapped like a tightly wound rubber band, “I swear to god, if you don’t—“

He pressed his nose to her inner thigh and bit down hard.

She shrieked, both shock and pleasure in the exclamation. Her body went taut, and he soothed away the ache with soft, barely-there kisses. Gradually she relaxed and dipped her head back into the pillows. He kissed her thighs—hot, open-mouthed kisses that drew ever closer to the apex. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs apart as he sucked and nibbled and _licked_ —

His tongue touched her folds, and the gasp that tore from her throat was nearly a scream. She was already dripping, and his tongue was wet too, and the combination forced her fingers into tight fists on the bed sheets. She made a high, desperate noise as his tongue entered her folds. 

“Christ,” Ben breathed, his breath fanning across her exposed cunt, “you taste just how I imagined.”

Rey couldn’t even manage an expletive. She gasped and gasped again, fingers flexing in and out of fists. The sound was like fucking music to his ears. He wanted to commit it to memory and play it on a loop. 

He dove back in, pressing his mouth directly against her core. Arousal slicked his chin, and he licked up her slit with harsh, incessant strokes of his tongue. He wanted to be messy—he wanted to lose control with her, here and now. As he lapped and sucked and drank from her pussy, Ben remembered all the times he’d _nearly_ lost himself in her. 

There were quite a few memories to pick from. 

A year ago. Barely six in the morning. Rey had just gotten off an overnight shift at the diner, and he’d dragged himself out of bed to meet her for breakfast. She’d been exhausted: gray bags under her eyes, skin too white, too pale, voice raspy and low like she couldn’t find the energy to speak. Their waitress had appeared and asked for their order. Rey had rattled off a damn buffet, and then she’d turned her eyes on him. Those eyes that were green like a grassy field. Green like a forest just after rainfall. He’d wanted to dive across the table and immerse himself in those eyes. 

_I love you,_ he’d thought at her, and Rey had smiled, turned to the waitress, and said, “He’ll have coffee and the Farmer’s omelette.” 

Two months ago. They’d been walking the streets after a late-night movie, laughing and bouncing off each other as they dodged drunken groups of friends and mischievous teenagers. The weather had been unseasonably cold, and cicadas and other summertime insects had apparently missed the memo because the night had been alive with chirps and buzzing. Rey had snorted at something he’d said and taken a wrong step. She’d been by his side one moment and stumbling off the curb the next. He had reacted instinctively. Throwing himself after her, Ben had scooped her up in his arms, putting himself between her and the late-night traffic. She’d shrieked in surprise and grabbed him around the neck, and when he’d inhaled the top of her head, everything inside him had immediately screamed for him to kiss her breathless. 

“You didn’t have to dance me around like that!” she’d scolded, poking his cheek. 

He’d blinked and said honestly, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Her smile had faded into something gentler. “I know. Thank you, Ben.”

 _I love you,_ he’d thought at her, and she’d demanded to know his favorite part of the movie. 

Last week. Sitting at the kitchen table, heart in his throat as he listened to her descend the stairs. She’d entered the kitchen already yawning, dressed in a too-big sweatshirt and loose PJ pants. Talking a mile a minute as she located a clean bowl and poured an offensive amount of sugary cereal. She’d rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands like a little kid, and in that moment all he’d wanted was to carry her back upstairs, tuck her into his bed, and never let her leave his sight. But instead he’d grinned at some smartass comment and gripped his fork like it was the only thing tethering him to the chair. 

_I love you,_ he’d thought at her, and she had insulted his selection of almond milk with a mock frown. 

Every moment. All of them. It always came back to her. When he was waking up in the morning or taking a shower or driving to work or accepting a conference call or breaking for lunch or watching Netflix or brushing his teeth. The big moments and the small. Everything he did and said—it always came back to her. Forever running on a loop in his mind— _Rey. Rey. Rey._

And now she was his, and he would not let her go.

Her thighs quivered, legs sliding against his back as he devoured her. Soft, gasping sounds came from above, and his heart seemed to melt and explode all at once. He dragged his tongue along her slit again, relishing the way her body went taut at his touch. 

“ _Ben_ ,” she cried hoarsely, fisting the sheets. “You’re—you—”

He pulled far enough away to ask, “Are you close, sweetheart?” 

She made a noise that was halfway between a sob and an affirmation. He touched the tip of his tongue to her clit, rolling it between his lips, and her back arched almost completely off the bed. 

Satisfied, Ben surged to his knees and kissed his way up her body. He started with the tops of her thighs and made his way to her hip bones, her waist, the undersides of her breasts, her nipples, collarbones, shoulder blades, the curve of her neck. All the way up, up, up to her mouth, where her lips parted, where she panted heavily. She was shivering and sweat-soaked, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused. 

“There she is,” he whispered, and kissed her gently. God, she was _magnificent._ Soft skin and dewy lips, eyes he wouldn’t mind drowning in. 

“ _Why did you stop?_ ” she wailed, lips pushing into a pout, tears in her eyes. She shoved at his chest—not angrily, not like she meant it, just frustrated. Brought to the brink and then denied.

“Are you angry with me?” he murmured, gliding his hands up and down her smooth sides, marveling at the size of her waist and how even in her obvious irritation she arched into his touch. 

She nodded, eyes narrowed. Her legs slid along his, pushing at his knees. A smile curved his lips. 

“Tell me why,” he said softly, and when she didn’t, he lay his body atop hers, bracing his hands on either side of her head so he wouldn’t crush her beneath him. Feeling the naked press of her body under him made his thoughts scatter completely.

“You know why,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze even as her fingers trailed lightly over his chest. She would never have any idea the effect that had on him. How he wanted to collapse then and there, submit to her, give her anything and everything she wanted. If only she would keep touching him like that. 

“I love you so much,” he said, needing her to know. 

She smiled, the frustration and irritation of the last few minutes disappearing in a blink. “I love you too.”

“Tell me why you’re mad,” he repeated, and she groaned around her laughter, covering her face with both hands. 

She mumbled something indistinct, and he straddled her waist so he could gently but firmly pry her hands away. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite catch it.” His smile was quickly edging into a smirk. 

“I want—I need to _come, _,” she said finally, barely audible, her eyes wide open and locked on his. “Please, Ben. I need—I need—“__

“I know what you need,” he said gruffly, mind spinning at the sound of her pleas. “I know exactly what you need, and you’re going to stay nice and still while I give it to you." 

She whined, yanking at the hem of his shirt, impatient and stubborn and everything he loved. Every time she moved an inch, every time she fluttered those lashes or pursed those lips or touched his bare skin, he lost his mind, and when it reformed, there was a little more of her and a little less of him. 

At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if he disappeared entirely. She was that pervasive, that all-consuming. 

__Still straddling her waist, Ben bent down and kissed her hard on the mouth. She inhaled quickly and blinked as he leaned away again. She studied his face for a long moment, and then her expression shifted—it wasn’t quite surprise. More like a subtle realization._ _

__She probably saw what he had known all along: she owned him._ _

__“Take off your shirt,” Rey whispered, fiddling with the hem of his button-down._ _

__Wordlessly, Ben tore the material down the middle, forgoing the buttons completely. He shrugged the shirt off and watched as her eyes tracked the movement, pupils darkening._ _

__“You didn’t have to ruin it,” she muttered, pressing her lips together to hold in a laugh. Her hands glided up his bare chest, pausing on old scars and new muscles. She seemed mesmerized._ _

__Ben let her investigate in peace._ _

__They’d known each other for years—of course they’d worn bathing suits and shorts and other revealing outfits around one another. Ben couldn’t count the number of times he’d watched Rey dance around in a bikini at the beach or at a friend’s pool. All tight curves and tanned skin, eyes flashing, lips curved in a smile that, when aimed his way, absolutely obliterated him._ _

__His go-to fantasy was a simple one. He’d imagined sinking deep into the sea, hooking an arm around her waist when she drew near, holding her tight to his chest and cresting the waves together--weightless. Skin on skin, heart to heart. When they rose again from the water, he would press their foreheads together, block out the world, and kiss her like it was their last day on earth._ _

__Of course, because he’d always played it safe, these scenarios had remained just that. Scenarios. Possibilities._ _

__The rules he followed had been very specific. Hands to himself, except when she needed him or made it clear his touch was appreciated. Never pushing too hard or for too long. Watching her face carefully to gauge her moods, tracking the direction of her thoughts, which he knew so well that he sometimes caught on to an impending episode or mood swing before she did. Always by her side. Meeting her wants and needs to the best of his ability._ _

If only he had fucking _used his words_ and told her, maybe this would’ve happened sooner. Months ago. _Years._ But for his fear, they could’ve been wrapped around each other all this time, carving a space for the two of them. Carving a life together. This regret, he suspected, would haunt him. So much wasted time. 

__“You have that look again.” Rey’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He started guiltily and realized she had stopped moving. Her hands rested on the waistband of his jeans. “What’s wrong?”_ _

He shook his head, throat tight. He would not mess this up. He would _not_.

“Tell me,” she demanded, and swiftly sat up when he shook his head again. “You’re so _stubborn_.” 

__

__Their faces were too far apart, and he could tell this irked her. But instead of pushing him off, Rey hugged his waist and planted a gentle kiss above his navel. A sharp, surprised _ah!_ burst from his lips at the contact. Her own lips curved against his skin, and she kissed the same spot again. Then higher. Both sides of his ribs and the center of his chest. Her lips coasted across his collarbones, over his breastbone, and finally the hollow of his throat, which she had to strain to reach. _ _

__

__“Ben,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “Please come down here.”_ _

__

__He made a pained sound in the back of his throat and allowed her to pull him down until they were chest-to-chest again. Breathing heavily, he stared at the top of her head as she nibbled on his throat. Jesus Christ._ _

__

“You—“ Ben had to pause a moment to get his thoughts in order. What came out was: “Did you just call me _stubborn_?" 

__

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, kissing her way up his neck. He arched automatically, bending to give her better access, and she hummed her approval. Like a complete sucker, he fucking _melted_. 

__

__“So are you,” he breathed, pressing his face to the crook of her neck. The very tip of her tongue touched his skin with every featherlight kiss she left behind, and more of his mind fractured. Soon he would be nothing but a drooling mess._ _

__

__“Mm. Okay.” Her nails dragged lightly down his chest until they found his jeans again. It was like she couldn’t decide where to touch first. She unbuttoned them with a quick flick of her wrist. Ben’s breath sped up._ _

__

__“Stop being so agreeable,” he growled, pushing his hips into hers so she couldn’t remove his jeans. Talking and thinking simultaneously was too difficult when she was squirming around beneath him like that._ _

__

__She scowled. “Why are you stalling?”_ _

__

He nearly choked. “Why am I— _what?_ ” 

__

Impatient, she hooked her legs over his hips and pushed at his jeans with her feet. Useless, but it got the point across. _Get them off._

__

“No,” he said with a small laugh, finally understanding. “No, no, I’m not _stalling,_ how could you think—“ 

__

__“You’re taking forever,” she muttered, kissing his chest again. He made a rough _oof_ sound that vibrated in the air between them. She raised an eyebrow._ _

__

He swallowed and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. She scrunched her face up— _fucking adorable, god help me_ —and gave him an _I’m-waiting_ look. Part of him admired her persistence—she was rarely this aggressive when it came to getting what she wanted. 

__

__“I want to make this good for you,” he admitted, voice low. He watched her face carefully for any signs of distress. “Rey, you—I’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and I don’t want to—”_ _

__

She gently cradled his face in her hands, eyes soft. “Don’t. You could never, _ever_ disappoint me, Ben. Not ever.” 

__

__He let out a shaky breath. “I need this to be good for you. Better than good. I want to make you…” He trailed off and shook his head. There were no words to describe how he wanted to make her feel. Happy didn’t even scratch the surface._ _

__

__Rey kissed him on the mouth, their lips meeting and parting like they’d been doing this dance for years and years. “If it helps, I’m nervous too. You have all this experience, and I’m not—“_ _

__

__“Experience?” he broke in, bewildered. “Rey, who—how many women do you think I’ve been with?”_ _

__

She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. “I—well, I don’t have an exact _number_ in mind, but—a lot.” 

__

“Oh,” he said softly, closing his eyes. Fuck. “Oh, _no_ , sweetheart. You have—you don’t—“ 

__

__Rey frowned and pushed at his shoulders when he ducked his head with a short, bitter laugh. “What? Why’s that funny? It’s no secret you’ve been on dates and—“_ _

__

__Ben pressed his forehead to her chest, laughing like it pained him. And it did. Of course it did. Finally, he lifted his head and said, “Rey, I haven’t been with anyone since...“_ _

__

“Since when?” she asked, and there was fear in her eyes. He could imagine the trainwreck of her thoughts as she tried to come to a conclusion before he spoke the truth— _Since last week. Since yesterday. In fact, he has a date right after this._ He could imagine it all too clearly—the downward spiral, and it broke his fucking heart. 

__

She really didn’t know. She really didn’t _get it_. 

__

__He leaned so close that her eyes filled his entire field of vision. “Since I met you, Rey. I haven’t been with anyone since I met you.”_ _

__

__“But—” She looked genuinely confused, and that hurt too. “That’s years. You’ve been on dates. I thought…”_ _

__

__“Only a handful.” He kissed the corners of her mouth. “But nothing since those first few months.”_ _

__

__“Ben.” She laughed and cast her eyes above his head to the ceiling as if she’d find an answer there. “You’re so confusing.”_ _

__

__“Is that a bad thing?” he asked carefully._ _

__

She snorted and gave him a wry look. “When is it ever a _good_ thing?” But her smile faded, and when she next spoke, her voice was quiet and unusually serious. “I guess I just never really thought about us...in _that_ way...because you seemed so occupied with dating and, you know...uh, that kind of thing.” 

__

Other women. She’d thought he’d been too occupied with _other women_. The very _idea_ … 

__

__Okay. Enough was enough._ _

__

Ben yanked her fully beneath him and grabbed both sides of her head, bracing himself on his elbows. “ _Listen_ to me,” he said, and her eyes widened at his dangerous tone. “There hasn’t been a single woman since the day I met you, Rey. Not a damn one. I was an absolute _idiot_ and never told you that the three dates I went on were supposed to distract me from thoughts of _you_. In the end all they did was reassert how much I’ve always fucking loved you.” He was breathing heavily now, but he couldn’t stop. She needed to hear this. She needed to _know_ , without a shadow of a doubt, that he was hers. 

__

He said it again. “I’ve _always_ loved you. All these years I’ve barely managed to keep my damn hands to myself. You know how hard it’s been? _So_ fucking hard,” he rasped before she could speak. “And all this time I’ve made excuses for myself, like a coward. _‘You can’t tell her because she’s not ready, she’s not in the right frame of mind, she needs more time.’_ But I was afraid of losing you. That’s the truth, and I refused to see it. I was afraid that speaking up, that telling you how I felt, would drive you away, and I couldn’t…” He broke off, voice jagged like pieces of glass had been shoved down his throat. “I couldn’t do that. I _couldn’t_. It was selfish of me, but I couldn’t let you leave. That wasn’t… There was no way. So I decided—yeah, by myself, because as we know already, I’ve been selfish about this whole thing—that it would be better to keep my feelings to myself if it meant we could still be friends. If it meant I could see you every day.” 

__

__Rey’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. She was wide-eyed—obviously shocked—and at a loss for words. Ben didn’t entirely understand the look on her face, but it seemed to be a good one, which he supposed meant he’d said something right._ _

__

__“Oh,” she said finally. A beat. Then another. “I didn’t...know that.”_ _

__

__He pressed his forehead to hers and muttered, “Me. Idiot.”_ _

__

__She laughed and shook her head. “Are we—do you think we’re bad at communicating?”_ _

__

__He pretended to think, even as his thoughts became muddled by the scent of her skin. “Can I plead the fifth?”_ _

__

__“Ah. We are.”_ _

__

__Ben muffled his laughter in her neck. Their breathing settled into a singular rhythm, and for a few moments they both just lay there. He was careful not to crush her, but he wanted there to be no distance between his body and hers. A careful balancing act._ _

__

__“I love you,” he said again, soft now. Tender. “And I need you.”_ _

__

__“Ditto.”_ _

__

__He rolled his eyes, smiling crookedly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him flush against her._ _

__

__“Rey?”_ _

__

__“Mm.”_ _

__

__“Can we have sex now?”_ _

__

__She nodded into his neck. “Please.”_ _

__

__He was touching her waist, gliding his hands over the smooth satin of her skin, when her legs tightened around his hips and reminded him of his painfully raging hard-on. Which was seconds from exploding, and as embarrassing as it might be to admit, he thought an imminent explosion might be a real possibility._ _

__

__“Uh, Rey?”_ _

__

__She murmured a faint reply, lips stuck to his neck, body glued to his, which really wasn’t helping his situation. Though it _was_ pleasurable. _ _

__

__“Sweetheart, I might not be able to...last very long.” He cringed._ _

__

__“Ben.”_ _

__

__He bit his bottom lip, hoping this wasn’t a deal-breaker. “Yeah?”_ _

__

__“Please take off your jeans.”_ _

__

He let out a quiet sigh of relief. Okay, then. No deal-breaker. That was—well, _good_ was putting it mildly. 

__

__Ben shucked off his jeans with a few sharp kicks, and Rey did her best to assist. But she seemed very distracted, and it was only when he pulled at the waistband of his briefs that he noticed her glazed stare._ _

__

__Ah. Right._ _

__

“Rey—” He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say. Warn her that his painfully hard aroused state wasn’t normal? Tell her it was beyond embarrassing but that he couldn’t help it? It was for _her_ , anyway; surely she understood that he had no control over his body when she was near. He had never been so hard in his _life_. 

__

__But she wiggled his briefs down until his cock sprang free. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she inhaled slowly. Staring—just staring._ _

__

__“Careful,” he said gruffly, peeling his briefs the rest of the way off. “You’re going to give me a complex.”_ _

__

She licked her lips, and his cock _twitched_. Fucking hell. 

__

“Impressive,” Rey managed finally, and his chest swelled despite himself. _Okay, egomaniac,_ he scolded, while at the same time crowing, _Holy shit, she wants to ride my cock._

__

__He draped her legs over his hips again, yanking their bodies together, and murmured, “For you.”_ _

__

__She kissed him on the mouth, lips soft and malleable beneath his own. He moaned and settled himself between her legs, pushing his dripping tip through her folds. More tightly wound bands of his control snapped as her arousal slicked the swollen head._ _

__

__“Christ,” he rasped, kissing her harder now. Desperately. “I need you, Rey.”_ _

__

__“I know,” she whispered, clenching her thighs around him, wiggling just enough for the tip of his cock to slip inside her. She moaned and tilted her head back into the pillows, exposing the long curve of her neck. His mouth watered at the sight._ _

__

__“No,” he insisted breathlessly, “you don’t.” Because she didn’t—not yet. He would show her though. Here and now and always. He would show her._ _

__

__With a slowness that tested the very boundaries of his self-control, Ben sank inside her until he was fully seated. An easy slide. She was so fucking wet she was almost dripping, and goddamn did that shake loose a wild, uncontainable part of him that desired nothing more than to devour her whole._ _

__

“Oh my _god_ ,” she cried, clenching around him, and for one truly precarious moment he feared he would come right _then_. 

__

But then it passed, and he shifted so he could bottom out completely, the tip of his cock pressing so deep he swore he could see a very faint outline in her stomach. For a second things went hazy as he imagined being crammed so far inside her that he could see it through her _skin_. 

__

__Shaking now, he slid a hand through her hair and gently pulled, forcing her head back. He licked up the middle of her throat, relishing the pleased sound she made._ _

__

“So sweet,” he murmured, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck. He needed to mark her _everywhere_. “ _Mine_ , Rey. Say it.” 

__

“ _Yours_ ,” she gasped, her breath tumbling out of her in an unsteady, staccato rhythm. “I’m yours, Ben.” 

__

__He shifted his hips, very slightly, and she whined in the back of her throat, fingers flexing on his shoulders. Hissing through his teeth, he began to rock them both, movements steady and controlled, even as his vision blurred, even as his arms shook. Splayed beneath him like this, all tanned skin and parted lips, an expression of pure bliss highlighting her features, Rey looked like a goddess. One he would dedicate his life to pleasing._ _

__

“I’m—ah— _fuck_ ,” he grunted, hips jerking when she bit his shoulder, teeth sinking into flesh. He pinned her to the bed and continued to rock into her, faster now, breathing erratically like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “Rey, you—you’re—“ 

__

“ _Please_ ,” she gasped, rolling her own hips, curling her arms under his and flattening her palms on the backs of his shoulders. “ _Harder_ , Ben, please, _please_ —“ 

__

__His stomach swooped, and just like that his control snapped clean in half—a soundless but decisive severing. The sound of her begging, the way she said his name, the tightness of her cunt squeezing his cock like she wanted to keep him locked there forever—what little control he’d maintained up to this point went straight out the window._ _

__

__“Fuck,” he snarled, caging Rey against the bed. He withdrew his cock until it nearly slipped free, then rammed it home as hard as he could. She choked on a scream and hugged him closer, her breasts pillowing between them. Her nipples were stiff and pebbled, and he groaned as he began to pound her cunt. The slick, wet sound of their joining meshed with her whines and his pants._ _

__

“ _Yes_ ,” she moaned, eyes fluttering, “yes, Ben, _yes_!" 

__

__She met each of his thrusts eagerly, pumping her hips so he could hit the sensitive spot buried deep within her. The mattress springs creaked in time with their bodies, the headboard rocking against the wall like it meant to knock the beams of the house down. Rey whimpered beneath him, her lips seeking his, and although he was already short on breath, he crashed his mouth down on hers, inhaling her like a drug._ _

__

“ _You_ ,” he panted, and tightened his hold on her hair. “I am going to make love to you all night, Rey." 

__

__She let out a soft, delirious cry, eyes glazed and unfocused. He hissed through his teeth and slammed into her again._ _

__

__“How does that sound? Hm? Tell me, baby.”_ _

__

“ _Yes_ ,” she cried, almost sobbing now, “I want that, _please_. F-f—" 

__

__Her breath stuttered as he thrust quickly now, delirious with the smell and sight of her, hips pistoning into hers with a force so great it shook the bedside table. He was being too rough with her, he could tell by the way she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but there was nothing to be done. He was losing his goddamn mind, and it would take nothing short of a world-ending event to stop him now._ _

__

__Ben buried his face in the crook of her neck, swiping his tongue across her skin to taste her sweat. Salty and sweet and fucking phenomenal. He licked her again, and her back arched off the bed; his cock penetrated her at a new angle, and she actually screamed now, her hands shaking on his shoulders._ _

__

“F-fuck me,” she gasped, digging her heels into the backs of his thighs, forcing him as deep as he could go. “ _God_ , Ben—fuck me, _please_ , I’ve w-wanted--” 

__

__She let out a desperate wail as he fucked her into the mattress, hips grinding into her, pleasure mounting to an almost unbearable level. He was close, on the razor’s edge of implosion, but he would not take the dive before she was there, too._ _

__

“ _Say it_ ,” he snarled, gently biting the curve of her neck. “Tell me, baby, _tell me_ what you want.” 

__

“ _You_ ,” she sobbed, writhing under him, “ _you, I want you!_ ” 

__

__“How much?” he demanded, stroking all the way in and out, dragging his length along her walls until she let loose an ear-shattering moan._ _

__

“More than anyone! More than— _ah!_ ” Her thighs tightened on his hips, and he flattened a palm on her stomach to keep her on the mattress. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, and his hands shook, but he kept his eyes on her face. The way her nose wrinkled every time he thrust in, the wild gasps that seemed to rip from her throat, her eyes as they rolled back into her head—it all cut him to pieces. She was coming undone right before his eyes, and he knew this image would forever be imprinted in his mind. 

__

__“Are you coming?” he asked gutturally. “Do you need to come, sweetheart?”_ _

__

__“Yes, yes!” she babbled, pushing her hips against him, needy and whining._ _

__

A single thought shot through his head: _condom_. 

__

_Fuck._

__

__Ben continued to pound her cunt as he leaned over and groped blindly at the bedside table. He yanked the drawer out and fumbled for a few precious seconds before his hand closed on a foil square. The agony that would follow would be short-lived, he hoped, but it was necessary._ _

__

__In one smooth motion, he tore open the wrapper, slid out of Rey, and sheathed himself with the condom. Then he was buried back inside her, fucking her as furiously as before, murmuring reassurances when she cried and gasped in his ear. He bit her neck again just because he could, and when her thighs began to tremble around his hips he knew it was time._ _

__

__“Come on me, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Rey, baby, come on my cock.”_ _

__

__She moaned and shook beneath him, and when he sucked on her earlobe she grabbed him by the hair and molded herself to his body, gasping like a wild thing._ _

__

“Jesus— _f-fuck_ ,” he groaned, gathering her close to his chest. “Come, baby, please come, I need you to—I _need_ —” 

__

With a roar, he was coming so fast and hard his vision went white, and he had to press his forehead to her neck to steady himself. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy_ — Then his thoughts dissolved into mist, and there was only pleasure. A low vibration traveled up his spine and across his whole body; through glazed eyes he saw Rey was coming too, her mouth open in a soundless scream. 

__

__He managed three more thrusts, slow and lazy, each one wet and squelching, as he drew out their orgasms, before he finally collapsed. At the last second he caught himself above her, hands braced on either side of her body, although the effort it cost was very nearly too much._ _

__

Rey whimpered beneath him, and for a moment he was terrified that he was, in fact, crushing her, but then she rolled her hips and ground herself on his cock, and he realized she was somehow still coming, she was fucking herself on his cock, she was making desperate little noises that were _annihilating_ him— 

__

__Finally, Rey went limp beneath him. Ben pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her gently. She inhaled and kissed him back but didn’t open her eyes. They panted together, limbs tangled and sweaty, Ben wondering how he’d ever managed to get so lucky. To be here, now, in this room with this girl, wrapped around her and buried so deep there was no way they could ever be separated._ _

__

__Limbs shaking with faint tremors, Rey raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, pressing feather-soft kisses to the underside of his chin. Completely spent, he concentrated on breathing through his nose and not crushing her. She smelled like sweat and sex, like his favorite temptation and greatest desire. He fisted the sheets by her head and licked up the sweat on her collarbone._ _

__

__“I love you,” he whispered, feeling somehow ruined and healed all at once. Then again, because he would burst if he didn’t tell her at least ten times a day: “I love you so much.”_ _

__

__She dragged his mouth down to hers and kissed him slow and hot, licking the inside of his mouth, biting his bottom lip. He made a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan, and for minutes they were lost. Nothing but her. Nothing but his Rey, soft and pliant beneath him, sucking on his lips, fingers tangled in his hair. What he wouldn’t give to stay just like this, for the rest of time. To have her here, safe and happy and only for him._ _

__

__Some time later, Ben kissed his way down her body, spending extra time on her nipples, and slowly withdrew. She clenched involuntarily, and his breath hitched, but he managed to slip off the soaked condom and toss it in a nearby wastebasket. His hands cupped her hips and then made their way to her tiny waist. He hesitated a moment and raked his eyes over her prone body._ _

__

__His nostrils flared at the sight of his hands on her waist, fingers nearly touching across the taut expanse of her naked skin. He allowed himself a moment of primal satisfaction. He could take her again and again, endlessly, and she would welcome it, she would arch beneath him, gasping and squirming and so fucking soft it messed with his head, and she would be so small he could cover her with his whole body, and fuck, the very thought nearly made him come again—_ _

__

But he breathed through his nose, counted to ten, and released it. He reminded himself, _This is Rey. You don’t rush things with her. She’s the one who matters, and you need to make her happy._ He was patient by nature, but even so, he gritted his teeth and covered her, pinning her to the bed, fingers tangling, hips slotting together like they were meant to be. 

__

__“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and watched her eyes flutter open. “My Rey. Only mine.”_ _

__

__A smile twitched at the edges of her mouth. He kissed her again just to see it grow._ _

__

__“What I wouldn’t do for you,” he murmured, keeping his eyes locked on her face. “What I wouldn’t do to keep you with me. You have no idea.”_ _

__

__She hummed and kissed the tip of his nose. “Some idea.”_ _

__

The tips of his ears went pink even as he growled and nipped her bottom lip. “I’ll show you again and again and again, in a hundred different ways. A _thousand._ I want you to come on my cock every day for the next ten years. To start with.” 

__

__She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. There were no words, but that was okay. That was just right. As long as he got to hold her like this._ _

__

__“I wasn’t...too rough, was I?” Even he could hear the worry in his voice, and it made him shut his eyes._ _

__

__“No,” she said softly, “no, it was perfect. It was—” She broke off and instead kissed the side of his neck, flicking her tongue across his skin. Of course it made him groan, and his cock twitched excitedly. “Again.”_ _

__

__Blinking, he licked his lips and pulled back a little, eyes on her face. “Again?” he repeated uncertainly. Even as he asked, he shifted between her legs, spreading her thighs wide, and cupped one hip, the other smoothing over her breast._ _

__

__“Again,” she demanded, and there was a fire in her eyes now. She arched her back and slid her hands from his neck to cradle his face. He watched her take him in—eyes and nose and mouth, the sweat on his forehead and in the hollow of his neck. Her breathing quickened, and so did his. “Again, Ben.”_ _

__

__And who was he to deny her?__

__

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** REY’S POV **  


__Rey woke in the middle of the night from a wonderful dream._ _

__

__In it, she and Ben lay tangled together. The setting was both indistinct and irrelevant, but she knew somehow that she was warm and safe and loved. His arms were tight around her body, their hearts beating as one. They were naked, sweat drying on their skin, and her heart was so full it was almost uncomfortable._ _

__

__But then she opened her eyes. The townhouse was quiet—it must be the dead of night. Nothing moved, either inside or out. Her thoughts flickered briefly to Dyad. Then she was turning on her side, and lying on the mattress, sheets pulled to mid-chest, was Ben. Naked, and asleep, and so beautiful she had to suppress a soft groan._ _

__

__Not a dream, after all._ _

__

__She slid from the bed, grateful there weren’t any creaky floorboards in Ben’s bedroom like there were in the guest room. She stood over the bed, shivering, and stared at Ben’s face. His long lashes fluttered in sleep, and his hand was curled into a loose fist, halfway under her pillow. She vaguely recalled snuggling into his chest throughout the night._ _

__

__Rey entered the master bath and quietly closed the door behind her. She leaned against it, staring blankly at the bathroom. Once again—definitely not the first time—she was struck by the events of the previous day. Evening. Night. Whatever._ _

__

She and Ben had slept together. With a smile, Rey covered her mouth to contain her giggles. Because holy shit—they’d finally _slept together!_ If someone had told her this even two weeks ago, she would have tilted her head and called them a liar. 

__

__But the memories were fresh and new and so goddamn delicious she wiggled in place with excitement._ _

__

__She sat on the toilet and remembered Ben’s face as he thrust into her. Like he’d been breaking into little, tiny pieces. Like his emotions were tearing him apart. Like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from fucking her over and over again until one or both of them passed out._ _

__

She’d wrapped herself around him, pulled him close to her heart, and let him take and take and take whatever he’d needed from her. He’d given, too—so much pleasure, so much heat, so much love that when she closed her eyes his was the only face she saw. All his imperfections, all his insecurities laid bare. And she had loved him so completely her body had become liquid beneath him. She’d screamed his name as she climaxed, and he had whispered an endless, chanting, _I love you._

__

__Rey knew it in her bones now, in her very blood—Ben loved her._ _

__

__It was silly to think they ever could’ve remained just friends. If it was true he’d been head-over-heels for her since the beginning of their relationship—and she had no reason to believe otherwise—then all along a romantic entanglement had been inevitable. Sure, it had taken her until only a few weeks ago to realize she might harbor feelings for him too—and up until a few _days_ ago, she hadn’t been able to so much as admit it to herself—but the emotions had likely always been there, just...not noticeable. Or, perhaps, willfully unacknowledged. _ _

__

__Rey flushed the toilet and teetered to stand in front of the mirror. Her reflection gaped back at her, shocked. There were faint bruises on her hips and throat, and marked thumbprints on her thighs. Her hair was a rat’s nest, and there were an uncountable number of hickies on her neck. She touched one and winced; still very tender._ _

__

If she’d had any doubts before, her reflection completely obliterated them—she was Ben’s, completely, totally, and enthusiastically. She belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. Should she drag him into the light and scour every inch of his body, Rey knew she would find similar markings. With a small grin she recalled dragging her nails down his back again and again like a wild beast—feral and demanding and hungry for him. _Starving._

__

__After the first time, which was immediately followed by a round two, Ben had collapsed on his side and drawn her close. His body had curled around her own, and in silence—save for their heavy breathing—they had cuddled and faded into a light doze. A few sporadic kisses here and there, an arm draped over her waist, and then blissful sleep._ _

__

Until he’d woken her two hours later and begged for more. Sleepily, they had joined, melting together in a way that spoke of long familiarity. Every time their lips met Ben had groaned into her mouth and tightened his hold, and she had squeezed his cock, thighs quivering with the strain, unable to let him go. Whispered words and murmured promises were interspersed with wailed declarations and unashamed pleading for _more_ and _more_ and _more_. 

__

In the bathroom mirror, Rey’s cheeks flushed a light pink. Ben had done his fair share of begging— _please, sweetheart, let me love you, please please baby_ —but she had undoubtedly done most of it. Begging him to come in her, beginning him to fuck her harder, faster, rougher, begging him to touch her everywhere, it didn’t matter where, just touch her _everywhere_. In the heat of the moment it had seemed simple—obvious, even. _Of course I want him to fuck me as hard as he can. I want his mouth and his hands on me and his cock buried in me. Always. Forever._

__

__But now, with distance came reflection, and with reflection came surprise at her actions and a fleeting embarrassment that she had both begged and screamed for these things. Intimacy and vulnerability were still very new, and she couldn’t possibly imagine doing or saying any of that stuff on a normal day._ _

__

__Ben’s cock was just fucking magical, she supposed._ _

__

__But when the magic faded, when she was brought back down to reality, she was still there. Rey. Still alive and breathing and, more often than not, a mess in the head._ _

__

__And even though she was exhausted and thrilled by what they’d done, although she wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the sheets and fold herself into Ben’s big, warm body, her mind was already at work—spiraling._ _

__

__She could feel the sweat on her skin. She was absolutely slick with it—and, she imagined, their combined fluids. Seeping into her skin and hair, filling all her crevices. It was a disgusting bit of imagery, but she was helpless to stop it from taking over. The bruises on her body were proof that they had worked hard over the course of many hours. Ben had always worn a condom, but they had joined again and again, a third and fourth time, and probably a fifth too, although her brain had gone a bit fuzzy by that point, overloaded by pleasure and the smell of him._ _

__

But now her head was clear, and despite her sore muscles and bloodshot eyes and the warm, handsome man waiting for her in his bed— _their_ bed—Rey could not stop staring at herself in the mirror. She looked horrible. Terrifying, really. Bloodshot eyes and ratty hair, skin gritty and too hot. 

__

__Tomorrow morning, at an impossibly early time, she would have to sit down in Ben’s study and log on to a primary care site, and she would then be expected to meet with a doctor who would ask her many questions and very likely judge her appearance. It was unavoidable; first impressions really did matter more than most anything._ _

__

__Rey was going to be exhausted no matter what, but the least she could do was make herself presentable. She didn’t check the time—if she left the bathroom, she’d see Ben, and if she saw Ben, she would fling herself next to him on the mattress because she was so weak for him._ _

__

_Okay,_ she told herself, blinking slowly. _Be an adult. Be responsible. Shower time._

__

__Right._ _

__

__With limbs that hung heavy, Rey stumbled over to the large shower stall and yanked back the sliding glass door. She fumbled for a few precious moments with the knobs and nearly gave up, but finally she got a steady flow going and sagged along the wall until she stood beneath the warm spray._ _

__

__Oh _god_. This--this was worth it. The water felt amazing on her sore muscles. She closed her eyes and leaned against the tiles, breathing through her nose. Her thoughts, inevitably, began to wander away from the pleasant steam filling the stall and into deeper topics. _ _

__

__In many ways, nothing had changed. She and Ben would still have to live together for at least two more days. They would rise, and cook breakfast—well, Ben would, at least—and watch TV, and play with Dyad. They might kiss and cuddle on the couch. Ben would work. Rey would play Animal Crossing. Normal._ _

__

Yet in all the ways that counted, everything had changed. Now when she woke in the morning, she would see Ben. When she ate breakfast, she would do so with Ben. When they were in different parts of the house, she would think of Ben. She would kiss him and hug him and love him, and she wouldn’t waste a chance to say, _Ben Solo, I love you more than television._ Or maybe, _Ben Solo, I love you more than cake._ The sentiment would be clear either way: _Ben Solo, I love you._

__

Now that they were together—and she wouldn’t let herself think anything else, no matter how much her ugly brain wanted to convince her otherwise—she didn’t want to spend a single minute apart, which was why getting a shower at this ungodly hour was so fucking _stupid_ , and yet _she couldn’t stop thinking about it._

__

__Rey snorted. And so, here she was._ _

__

With a sigh, she squirted a coin-sized dollop of shampoo in her hand and began rubbing it over her scalp. Another mini-massage for her sore muscles as she applied soap, and her eyes drifted closed. Combined with the water and the steam, she could very well fall asleep standing up like this, if she wasn’t careful. She washed the suds from her hands, picking at her nails. _That better not be dirt,_ she thought, frowning. 

__

__And that was when the bathroom door slid back and Ben stepped into the shower._ _

__

Oh, _Christ_. He was magnificent. Her eyes flickered over his naked body: muscles in his arms and legs, thick thighs, a hard, flat stomach, broad shoulders. So broad they completely dwarfed her--it was almost comical. His jaw was sharp, cheekbones angled, black hair long enough to curl over his ears and at the nape of his neck. Hands that spanned her waist. Oh god, those hands _did_ things to her; just the thought of them gliding over her skin sent her spiraling into a rabbithole of memories from last night. Or—tonight? 

__

__His penis was already half erect—thick and impossibly long and blushing red. Her throat went dry in an instant, as if a vacuum hose had been stuck in her mouth. She would’ve swallowed, but he was looking at her and would no doubt notice. It had only been several seconds, but she didn’t want to be caught staring._ _

__

__Rey backed up a single step, and her back hit the tile wall._ _

__

__“You’re awake,” she whispered, and then her eyes widened. Her hands flew to her mouth. Nerves sparked to life. “Did I wake you?”_ _

__

__He shook his head and approached her slowly, like a sudden movement might startle her. “Rey.”_ _

__

His voice was low and faintly scolding. _Great,_ she thought morosely, _what did I do now?_

__

__“Uh—”_ _

__

__Ben carefully planted his hands to either side of her head and leaned down so they were eye-level. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”_ _

__

__Ah. Right._ _

__

__She bit her bottom lip nervously and cast a glance over his shoulder. “Well, no, not exactly, but—“_ _

__

__He hummed, eyebrows knitting with concern. “It’s the middle of the night.”_ _

__

__“Yes…” she said, drawing the word out. Her hands itched to touch him, but based on his current mood she doubted it would be appreciated._ _

__

__“And you’re taking a shower,” he said flatly, penetrating her with those vivid amber eyes._ _

__

__“That is...accurate,” she said, then winced when his nostrils flared. She hurried to explain. “My appointment’s tomorrow and—”_ _

__

__“Rey,” he said again, but now it was quiet, and therefore all the more dangerous. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”_ _

__

__Her words faltered, explanation forgotten, as she took a long look at his face. It wasn’t concern, she realized, nor even confusion. It was fear. Faint, but discernible._ _

__

__“I had to…” She didn’t know what to say and could only stare at him helplessly._ _

__

__“I woke up,” he repeated, deadly soft, “and you weren’t there.”_ _

__

__Her fingers were tingling—shaking, really, but she raised them to cup Ben’s face. He instinctively leaned into her touch, eyes darkening. His breath whispered across her palms, over her wrists, and she parted her lips to breathe him in._ _

__

__“I’m not leaving,” she said quietly. “I promised I wouldn’t leave, and I meant it. I just had to use the bathroom. That’s all.”_ _

__

__He rolled his lips, looking uncertain, and she gently kissed him._ _

__

“I _promise_ , Ben.” 

__

__His expression shifted then. He kissed her roughly back and murmured, “Why are you in the shower then, hm? You didn’t think to ask me?”_ _

__

__She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. His switch from frozen fear to gentle tease was rather abrupt. “You were asleep! I didn’t want to wake you.”_ _

__

__“I don’t mind,” he said, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue. She breathed in shakily. “You can wake me anytime, Rey.”_ _

__

__“I’ll r-remember,” she stammered, “for next time.”_ _

__

__A bright smile blossomed on his lips. “Oh, so you’re planning to make a habit of these midnight shower rendezvous?”_ _

__

__She flushed. “I—wait, is it only midnight?”_ _

__

__His smile turned feral. “It’s much later than that, sweetheart. I’m upset you didn’t wake me, but I’m more upset you’re not asleep in bed right now. You need to take better care of yourself.”_ _

__

__Oh now, _this_ was familiar ground. She almost rolled her eyes. “Okay, sure, Dad. I’ll get right on that.”_ _

__

His pupils expanded until his eyes were nearly all black. It made her shiver. “You insist on calling me _Dad_ , don’t you? You’re going to give me a complex.” 

__

__Her lips twitched. “You seem on bad terms with complexes lately. Maybe you should get that checked out.”_ _

__

__With a playful growl, Ben hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor. She huffed a laugh and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He adjusted her legs on his hips and pressed her hard against the wall. The cold feel of the tiles on her back juxtaposed with the warmth of his chest on her front, and a small whimper escaped her lips._ _

__

“You know, it’s a good thing I’m around now,” he said mildly, shifting so his hardened cock probed her folds. She was wet from the shower, of course, but she was also just insanely wet for _him_. “Since you refuse to take care of yourself, it looks like I’ll have to pick up the mantle.” 

__

__“I can take care of myself,” she scoffed, ignoring the way he rolled his hips enough for the tip to slip inside her. “You’re just overbearing.”_ _

__

“I want the best for you,” he continued, sinking into her cunt. She pressed her lips into a hard line to keep from crying out. “Sometimes I even _know_ what’s best for you.” 

__

“Doubtful,” she gasped, squirming against the wall. He was going so damn slow again; was it his _goal_ to make her lose her mind? 

__

But he didn’t adjust his pace. Instead he held her in place as he filled her up. His eyes were intent on her face, and she hoped she was hiding how _disgustingly_ turned on she was right now. The fact that he seemed to be far too easily supporting her while simultaneously maintaining a casual conversation and cramming his way inside her was fucking _hot_. 

__

__“Doubtful?” he repeated musingly. “Are you sure? I can tell what you want right here, right now.”_ _

__

She gripped his shoulders, teeth gritted, and dug her heels into the backs of his thighs to force him deeper. “ _Ben_ ,” she hissed, impatient. _Won’t you fuck me? Please, please, fill me up._

__

__“Will you tell me if I’m right?” He seemed completely unmoved by her warning. He pinned her against the wall and calmly waited for a response, like they were merely sitting at an outside cafe discussing literature or something._ _

__

__Fine. Two could play at that game._ _

__

__With a shaky sigh, Rey tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, letting her body go limp and relaxed. She sank fully onto his cock until his balls hit her inner thighs. He was seated so deep at this angle that she could hardly take a breath without feeling his cock twitch or pulse._ _

__

__“I was busy taking a shower, you know,” she said matter-of-factly._ _

__

__He was silent, but she could feel his attention on her like a laser beam. It was so new, this idea that he was in love with her, that wielding this power felt a bit unreal._ _

__

__“The whole point was to get clean,” she complained, “and now you want to dirty me up again?”_ _

__

__Rey opened her eyes to see that he was completely frozen. She pushed her lips into a pout and tightened her legs around his hips. “Really, Ben. That’s not very nice of you.”_ _

__

“ _Nice?_ ” he said incredulously, squeezing her waist. “You can’t imagine all the very _not_ nice things I want to do to you. For hours and hours. For _days_.” 

__

__She hummed appreciatively and adjusted her grip on his neck. “I’m sure that’s not true.”_ _

__

__He hissed through his teeth and thrust lazily, dragging his length nearly all the way out before pushing with a slow, gentle glide in again. She whined and twisted in his grasp, and his mouth sought her throat. When he brushed her hickies, she stiffened instinctively._ _

__

__“Sorry, baby,” he mumbled, caressing her skin with his tongue. “You taste divine.”_ _

__

_Divine._ She melted at the word. No one had ever referred to her as _divine_ before, and especially not with such reverence. 

__

__Instead of pain, there was only the soft swipe of his tongue. He licked across her neck, lapping at the water pooled in her collarbones, and she murmured her approval. His hands met around her waist like a manacle, and she thrilled at the thought of being caged in. If Ben was her captor, he would meet no resistance._ _

__

__All the while, he glided slowly in and out of her pussy. She was absolutely soaked by this point, which made it all the easier for him to enter her._ _

__

__Ben buried his face in her neck and rumbled, “You’re so good for me, Rey. So good.”_ _

__

__She whimpered and bucked when one of his hands slid between her legs and began rubbing her clit. Sensations sparked from that one spot all across her body like live wires. Her breath came in loud pants, and she moved her hips faster, desperate to recreate that delicious friction from last night._ _

__

__“I love you,” she said breathlessly, squeezing her eyes shut against the building heat between her legs. She would never get tired of saying those words, of watching the way they transformed his face._ _

__

“ _Good_ ,” he said harshly, pushing her hips into the wall to stop her frantic grinding. “Because I’m not going to let you go. You’re not allowed to leave.” 

__

She had rarely witnessed this possessive side to Ben, but it _really_ worked for her. _Holy shit, I'm going to come again._ She peppered kisses on the underside of his jaw, whining needily. “How will you keep me here?” 

__

__His thrusts were still relatively slow, but at these words he snapped his hips into hers, making her cry out shrilly. In her ear, he whispered, “I’ll chain you to the goddamn bed if I have to.”_ _

__

__“Oh god,” she whimpered, clenching around his cock every time he bottomed out._ _

__

__“Can’t leave,” he muttered breathlessly, thrusting faster now, his pace sloppy and uneven. “Won’t let you.”_ _

__

“ _Ben!_ ” she wailed, arching off the tile wall. The shower water beat down on Ben’s back, occasionally spraying her face. She was drunk with pleasure. 

__

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, snapping his hips forward again...and again. “ _Tell me,_ Rey!” 

__

“ _Yours, I’m yours!_ ” she screamed, and then she was coming, her orgasm streaking through her like a comet. Her voice rebounded back at them within the shower stall, and she was distantly aware of her thrashing and screaming. Ben held her tightly to his chest, cock twitching as he came too. 

__

__All sound ceased, and with her eyes closed Rey could imagine she was floating. Somewhere warm. Somewhere with warm water and a warm body cradling her like they didn’t know what they’d do without her._ _

__

__She moaned a little as she came down from the high. Ben was gently rocking, his mouth pressed to her shoulder. His body shook with tiny tremors, and so did hers—the aftershocks of their lovemaking. They remained there in their little bubble while they both caught their breath._ _

__

__Finally, Ben peeled them both off the wall and carefully set her on her feet, withdrawing his cock with a slick _pop_. Rey wobbled shakily for a second, but Ben’s hands never left her waist. He supported her until she regained her balance. Her vision was blurry now, and the ache of her sore muscles had returned, but she was too exhausted to care. _ _

__

__Which was why it took her a moment too long to realize Ben was massaging her scalp._ _

__

__“What are you doing?” she slurred, swaying against his chest._ _

__

__He kissed the crook of her neck and said, “Gotta get you clean, right? Big appointment tomorrow.”_ _

__

__She smiled at that, eyes heavy-lidded—he’d remembered. Her breath escaped on a sigh, and while he rinsed the shampoo from her hair and applied conditioner, she mumbled, “Thank you, Ben.”_ _

__

__“You’re welcome, beautiful.”_ _

__

__She swayed again, lulled by the gentle ministrations of his big hands. “I love you.”_ _

__

__There was a smile in his voice as he told her, “I know.”_ _

__

__Some time later, long after Rey had lost sense of where she was and what was happening, Ben shut off the water and scooped her into his arms. He wrapped her up in a thick white towel and gently deposited her in their bed. Tucking the sheets around them both, he spooned her from behind and kissed the back of her neck until she drifted off to sleep._ _

__

__She surfaced only once more before morning, and her eyes filled with bleary tears when she felt his breath fanning the back of her neck and a heavy arm draped over her waist._ _

_Family,_ she thought. _Lover,_ she thought.

_Home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **oof these two deserve the world(s) 🥺**
> 
> say hi!  
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	17. Hope Is Like The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some loose ends are tied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **maybe ive been procrastinating because i don't want this fic to end 🥺**
> 
> **also....another 11k, which means ive officially broken the 100k barrier!!**

** DAY THIRTEEN **

It was nearly time.

Rey drew the sleeves of Ben’s hoodie over her hands and nervously adjusted herself as the minutes ticked past. The clock read eight-forty-nine, but she knew that it could be off by seconds or even minutes. 

Now more than ever she had to prepare for every scenario. This meeting was important—life-changing. But only if she allowed it to be. 

When Ben’s alarm pierced the air that morning, her heart hadn’t immediately gone into crisis mode. The looming appointment had been her very first thought, of course, but she had not been crippled by fear. No, instead of her usual instinctive, panicked reaction, she had slowly inhaled the scent of Ben’s skin and opened her eyes to find him already watching her, hair mussed, lids lowered over eyes still dark with sleep.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he’d said softly, nuzzling her temple. His lips, she remembered, had been swollen. 

She’d laughed and curled into his side. The arm draped over her waist had pulled tight, eager to bring her in. “How long have you been awake?”

“Few minutes,” he said, but she’d narrowed her eyes, and he’d admitted, “Fine. Roughly an hour.”

Which meant he hadn’t gotten more than two or three hours of sleep total. Rey suspected he’d spent that time staring at the wall or—and this was born more of her imagination than any actual assumptions—maybe just ravishing her as she slept. She did have _some_ evidence, though. Whenever she'd woken during the night, suddenly and inexplicably knocked out of a deep sleep, Ben had either been licking or kissing various parts of her body—her neck, breasts cheeks—as if he'd been at it for hours. The brush of his swollen lips on her flushed skin had soothed her back to sleep instantly every time, like a whispered lullaby. 

His soft _I love you_ s had followed her into dreams tinted rose.

She was wide awake now. 

Rey tapped her fingers on the arms of the chair and shifted restlessly. She was sore between the legs, and the fact that she couldn't remember how many times she and Ben had made love pulled a heated blush to her cheeks. 

He’d woken her several times throughout the night, nearly incomprehensible with need. She vaguely recalled lurching out of sleep sometime after midnight in order to drag herself atop him, fingers tangling in his hair, lips drawn together, hips slotting neatly against his own. Despite their mutual exhaustion, they’d gone at it again and again, late into the night—or early into the morning. Time lost all relevance when they were together. 

When the alarm went off, she and Ben had spent precious time kissing and cuddling until it was almost too late. With a curse, she’d flung herself from the bed and donned black leggings and one of his oversized sweatshirts. Ben had tucked his hands behind his head and watched her through blurry, bloodshot eyes that tracked her through the bedroom. 

For all she knew, he was still there. In fact, she really hoped he’d fallen back asleep—they would both need as much energy as possible in the days to come. Ben, she knew, had plans for them both, and they all involved the bedroom. 

On her laptop screen, the browser window flickered. Rey’s heart jumped, but the digital static settled into the same spiraling circle of text— **PLEASE WAIT. YOUR PROVIDER WILL BE AVAILABLE SHORTLY.**

She swallowed convulsively, wishing she’d thought to bring a glass of water with her—just in case. Her mouth was dry, her throat painfully tight like there was an invisible clamp closing in increments around her neck. She understood that it was all in her head—when wasn't it?—but that didn’t make the anxiety any easier to bear. 

Her legs bounced under the desk, an agitated, restless movement that she was wholly unable to stifle. Not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t _want_ to. If it wasn’t her legs, it would be her arms or face or stomach. She would pace the room or twist her fingers instead. Her face would twitch, and her stomach would do all the bouncing and jerking her legs couldn’t. In moments like these, when her anxiety was too great to override, it would manifest in visible tics and involuntary, repeated movements. 

_Breathe,_ she told herself uneasily. The clock ticked ever closer to nine. _You can do this, Rey._

Even so, she reminded herself of everything she’d done to prepare. Risen thirty minutes before her appointment, for one. Gotten dressed in clothes that weren’t pajamas—definitely a win, considering quarantine had really lowered her standards. Fixed her hair into three buns. Wiped her face clean of grime or leftover sleepiness. She had talking points written on an index card and a list in her head of all the many ways she could approach a question. 

Rey was ready.

Eight-fifty-six. 

On screen, the text shifted to a new phrase: **YOUR PROVIDER IS GETTING READY AND WILL BE WITH YOU SOON. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.**

Oh. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and went absolutely still, paralyzed by panic. _Nope. Absolutely not. Can’t do it._

Behind her, the door creaked open, and footsteps padded across the study. Rey didn’t turn around because if she took her eyes off the screen for _one second_ , everything would fall to pieces and all her meticulous preparations would be for naught. She knew the drill. 

Ben’s lips brushed her temple. “Hey, baby. How’re you holding up?”

She was pretty sure the whites of her eyes were visibly ringed around her pupils, so she didn’t answer. Ben interpreted her silence correctly and swiveled the chair so she was facing him. His hair was mussed, face still somewhat slack from a rough night’s sleep, but his eyes were intense as ever and focused right on hers.

“Ah,” he said, smiling sheepishly as he crouched down. “Dumb question.”

Tears filled her eyes. She actually wasn’t all that upset, but this was an automatic response to reassurance offered to her in this heightened state. Even a vague word of encouragement might break her down to helpless tears. Embarassing, but this was yet another facet of her volatile emotions she'd learned to live with. 

“Is this a good idea?” she asked breathlessly. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Rey—“ He reached for her hands and gripped them tightly in one massive fist.

Her head spun and words spilled unfiltered from her numb lips. “You know what, I’ve changed my mind. We can revisit this later. It’s been a fun little experiment, but—“ When she began to rise from the chair, Ben gently but firmly pushed her back into place. 

Her eyes went wide again. _Et tu, Benjamin?_

“Rey.” A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “That’s the fear speaking. You and I both know you can do this. Hang tight.” He glanced quickly at the screen. “The doctor should be here soon.”

Rey’s eyes darted to the laptop. One minute. Her stomach heaved. _Fuck_ , this was absolute torture! Why had she gotten up thirty fucking minutes before the appointment? That gave her way too much time to consider all the many reasons this was a terrible idea. She knew herself well, so why had she allowed so much spare time for overthinking? 

Ben gripped the backs of her calves and kissed the tops of her knees. His lips sent a pleasurable bolt between her legs, and she reached out to poke his dimple. She wished, fleetingly, that she’d worn shorts instead of leggings. 

“I believe in you,” he said softly, locking eyes with her. “I trust you can handle this, and I know it’s hard now, but you will feel _so_ much better, Rey.”

She listened intently as he spoke, urging herself to really listen. To hear him say _I believe in you_ when she herself had doubts about her own capabilities was a welcome thing. Of _course_ he believed in her—she should, too. The fear was a distraction--the fear allowed her to escape. 

But Rey didn't want to escape anymore. She wanted to stay in one place, for good this time. 

Her shoulders sagged as she realized—her thoughts were getting the best of her again. All she ever needed was some room to realize that, and with distance came the understanding that this appointment was just one more aspect of life. Just one more thing she could and _would_ survive. 

Ah. Relief. Rey kissed him quickly on the mouth. “Thank you, Ben.” 

When she pulled back, he followed, keeping their lips pressed together for an extra few seconds. “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Full of compliments this morning, aren’t we?”

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” His eyes raked over her body. Not lascivious but admiring. “I want you to wear them more often.”

“Okay, Dad,” she said lightly, just to see his eyes darken. This particular aspect of teasing really amused her. 

He hummed and rose to his feet, mouth pressed to her ear. “I can’t wait to take it off you.”

Rey shuddered at the heated promise, but when he turned to leave she caught his hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the screen shifting. It was time. _Okay. Let’s do this._

“Can you...bring me some water?” Yeah, yeah, whatever—she couldn’t let that oversight go.

“Of course.” His lips grazed her hair. “Hey, Rey?”

She raised her eyebrows, attention shifting entirely to the laptop.

“I love you.” 

A smile bloomed across her face, and her fear dissipated like mist in a high wind. “I love you too, Ben.”

He left the study with a grin as big as her own. Beneath his shaggy hair, she saw that the tips of his ears were pink. She bit her bottom lip. Talk about adorable. She’d have to remind him at least a dozen times a day that she loved him. Not that she thought he’d forget—there was no chance of that—but because she wanted more than anything to see him smile and know without a doubt that she was the one who put it there. 

“Rey?” 

Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she swiveled to face the laptop. On screen was a thin white-haired woman, discernibly tall even seated, with a round face and kind green eyes. Dr. Mon Mothma wore a white doctor’s coat over a cream sweater. She projected a simple but effective image: a nurturing caregiver with—Rey had done her research—incredible credentials. 

“Hi, um, Dr. Mothma.” 

A small, understanding smile touched the corners of her mouth. “It’s wonderful to see you, Rey. Thank you for meeting with me.” 

“Thanks for agreeing to see me. I know your schedule’s pretty full.” Rey wasn’t one for small talk, but she could handle it in small doses. After all, she was a full-time waitress at a diner in the city. Her blunt, loud-mouthed customers didn’t give her much of a choice. 

“Not at all.” Dr. Mothma’s smile was serene. Totally unperturbed. Rey had a good feeling. “So, Rey. Is it okay if I call you Rey?”

She nodded jerkily, fingers drumming on the edge of the desk. “Yes, yes, th-that’s...that’s fine.”

The doctor's smile softened. “I can tell you’re nervous, and that’s perfectly normal. Take a deep breath.”

Grateful, Rey did.

“Now.” Dr. Mothma shuffled some papers around and settled in the middle of the frame. “Would you like to tell me what’s been going on?”

“I—don’t know where to start,” Rey admitted, laughing a little. Her thumb brushed the edge of her index card. 

“Anywhere.” The doctor shrugged. “There are no wrong answers here.” 

_There are no wrong answers here._ For a brief moment, Rey closed her eyes and let that sink in. _God_ , how she needed to hear that. Her mind was constantly overanalyzing words, reactions, facial expressions, tone, and about a thousand other things because she was terrified of saying or doing or expressing the wrong thing. She didn’t like to disappoint people. 

But she had a feeling that it would be incredibly difficult—perhaps even impossible—to disappoint Dr. Mothma.

So Rey took a deep breath and gave her the rundown on the situation. Panic attacks, obsessive tendencies, sporadic bouts of depression, and infrequent but intense periods of self-harm impulses. Then she moved on to her childhood and the many foster homes she was shifted to and from. Part of her was relieved to speak these things aloud—things that had become so much a part of her she didn’t recognize herself without them—and yet part of her was horrified at the easy manner in which she listed them.

_Obsessive thought spirals? Oh yeah, totally normal. Sometimes I count to a certain number dozens or even hundreds of times, but no big deal! Depression? Ah, that’s old news. Occasionally I'll have this, like, weight on my chest that feels like it might break every bone in my ribcage, but I’ve learned to handle it. No worries!_

Yikes.

Dr. Mothma did not interrupt, which was for the best. If she didn’t word vomit all her problems at once, right here and right now with likely the most avid listener she could ever ask for, Rey wasn’t sure if she’d have the courage to speak of her problems again so blatantly. She might clam up and refuse to acknowledge anything was wrong—her go-to response when confronted, as Ben well knew.

Finally, Rey stopped speaking. With a weak cough, she offered a smile and rolled her lips while she awaited judgement. _She’s not going to judge you,_ Rey reminded herself sternly. _She is absolutely going to judge you!_ a different voice protested. 

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well, Rey. First, before we get into anything, I’d like to say something.”

With a benign smile fixed firmly in place Rey nearly flung herself out of the chair. _Oh god, I’ve really done it now._ If the doctor felt the need to preface a statement with a warning, that only meant bad news. This was going to be terrible. 

“Rey, I can’t tell you how proud I am that you’ve taken this step." Dr. Mothma offered a genuine smile. "Truly, the fact that you’ve managed to come this far on your own is commendable. Not many people—young people, especially—have the wherewithal to seek help.” 

“Oh, I didn’t do it on my own,” Rey said quickly, fidgeting at the praise. “My boyfriend’s the one who pushed me to call you.” Alarmed, she added, “Not pushed like _forced_ , though, I don’t mean that. He just—“ Rey trailed off, embarrassed. 

Dr. Mothma gave her another encouraging smile. “I understand. That’s wonderful to hear. Your boyfriend must be a very special man.” 

Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes. She nodded and with a watery laugh said, “He really is.”

The doctor checked her clipboard and made a quick note. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to diagnose someone remotely, so you’ll have to make an appointment—another one, I know—where we can run some tests. Normal bloodwork for cholesterol, thyroid, CBC,” she continued quickly, catching the alarmed look on Rey’s face. “Nothing out of the ordinary. We want to make sure you’re healthy, and we don’t want to rule anything out right away. I do believe, based on what you’ve described and the incomplete paperwork I have here from your previous doctors, that post-traumatic stress disorder is a serious contender.”

PTSD. Rey swallowed. She already guessed this would be the eventual diagnosis, but since she’d never actually had it confirmed by professionals before, it made sense to move slowly so she wasn’t misdiagnosed. 

“The bloodwork will help me to further narrow down the possibilities, but as I said...” She winced. “Working remotely isn’t ideal in these circumstances, so it’s going to take some time. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Rey said hoarsely, and cleared her throat. They were really doing this. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Fantastic.” Dr. Mothma tapped several keys on her keyboard, leaning close to the screen, and Rey noticed a tattoo peeking under the sleeve of her coat. 

Curious, she blurted, “What’s that on your wrist?” Then she blinked, surprised she hadn’t automatically censored herself. 

Dr. Mothma smiled—perfectly at ease—and rolled back the white cuff. “Good eye. It’s a tattooed symbol of rebellion from—“

“Those space movies?” Rey interrupted with a gasp. She could never remember the names. “I just watched all three recently!”

“Aren’t they spectacular?” The doctor swooned dramatically, drawing a surprised laugh out of Rey. “The lead actor was a phenomenal choice, if I do say so.” She winked lasciviously. “But more than anything I’m relieved they ended the trilogy the way they did. Based on the leaks, it seemed like—”

“Like it was going to _suck_ ,” Rey joined in, surprised the doctor knew about the infamous leaks. Apparently, the directors and producers had a whole bunch of terrible ideas involving main character deaths and senseless homages to nostalgia. Rey had nearly blown a gasket at all the theories that had circulated in the wake of those leaks. Luckily someone intervened and got the plot back on track, and lo and behold—a well-deserved happy ending for everyone. 

“Exactly.” Dr. Mothma rolled her eyes and traced the orange and black Rebellion symbol on her wrist. “Did you and your boyfriend watch them together?”

Rey nodded eagerly and leaned her elbows on the desk, getting comfortable. “Yeah, we decided last week to have a marathon. It was raining, and it’s not like we have anywhere to go, you know?”

Dr. Mothma smiled sadly and rolled down her sleeve. “I’m afraid they were underestimating the impact of this virus. It’s likely to be much longer than two weeks.” 

“Really?” Rey asked nervously. She’d been certain the quarantine would be lifted. “Uh, how much longer, do you think?” 

Dr. Mothma shrugged and wheeled around her office, gathering papers. “Hard to know for sure. Definitely another two weeks though.”

Great. Rey groaned and put her head in her hands. “Seriously? I thought I could handle two weeks, but turns out I’m severely prone to cabin fever.”

“That’s what I’m hearing from most of my patients.” Dr. Mothma sighed. “Tell me, have your symptoms gotten worse since quarantine?”

Rey made a face, and the doctor nodded understandingly.

“Not surprising.” She clicked a pen and gestured towards the screen. “Well, Rey, I want you to schedule an appointment for bloodwork. As soon as we have the results, we’ll call you and go from there. If PTSD is the answer, you and I will have to discuss medication options. So you see, the sooner the better.” 

“Got it.” Rey straightened in her chair. This meeting had gone so much better than she’d anticipated. In fact, she felt able to breathe again for the first time all morning. There was one last thing she wanted to discuss, and before she lost her courage, she said, “Dr. Mothma?”

On screen, the doctor paused and raised a thin eyebrow. “Question?”

“Sort of.” Rey swiveled in her chair and eyed the study door nervously. “I—My boyfriend…” She faltered and scratched the back of her head. “I’ve been thinking that he should see someone, too. Talk to someone. I don’t know.” She laughed helplessly.

This might not be a good idea. In fact, Rey had more than just an inkling that said she should drop it. But all she envisioned in her head was Ben’s panic-stricken face when he grabbed her in the grocery store, deathly pale and wild-eyed like someone at the very end of their rope. 

Dr. Mothma set down her pen, concerned. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, yes!” she said quickly. “I’m just worried. He’s been struggling, too.” She took a deep breath and added, in a low whisper, “His parents died very suddenly, and I don’t think he’s, uh, been handling it very well.”

The doctor made a note in her folder. “Was this recent?”

“No, they died several years ago. I think...Ben represses most of his feelings and memories, so he never mentions them.” Rey shook her head, blushing. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how much to tell you. It would be better coming from him. I just...I don’t want him to struggle with this like I’ve been struggling, you know? Like me, he’s been a little resistant.” 

Dr. Mothma settled deeper into her chair. “Listen. I don’t have another patient for twenty minutes.” She smiled gently. “Why don’t you tell me a little of what’s been going on?”

And Rey did.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Downstairs, Ben was pacing the living room.

She hadn’t meant to sneak, but when she skipped down the staircase, blissfully unaware of the toy mouse on the stairs that nearly flung her to the first-floor landing, her body had jolted to a halt at the sight of him. With a hand on the banister, she swung herself into the hallway, out of sight of the living room, and peered around the corner. 

It wasn’t very often she caught Ben by surprise. He was very aware of his surroundings, always had been, and whenever she wanted his attention, most times he was usually already giving it. Her boyfriend liked to have the upper hand, she suspected--didn't like to be taken by surprise, just like she didn't. So it was with no small amount of pleasure that she watched him putter around the living room unobserved.

Ben ran a big hand through his tousled hair—more tousled than normal, she noticed. Strands in the back were sticking straight up in a cute little cowlick, and the shaggy parts around his ears were all over the place. Unlike her, he hadn’t felt the need to dress up, so he wore black sweats and a matching t-shirt. Her stomach did a slow roll at the sight of him—he always did look best in black. Dangerous, in a way, which was silly because her Ben was anything but.

Well. Her thoughts flashed back to the previous night. She blushed. Normally. 

Ben was still pacing. Front door to sofa to television to doorway to window. There, he would stand and gaze out at the front lawn. She suspected the neighborhood was relatively empty—it was mid-day, after all, and the clouds were stormy-looking—so the amount of time he spent staring out of the window was pretty disproportionate to whatever was going on. Again, likely nothing at all.

Concerned, Rey went to step forward and make her presence known—reluctantly deciding not to scare him—but a streak of grey fur shot out from beneath the sofa and attacked Ben’s leg. He grunted and carefully lifted his foot, but Dyad had sunk his teeth into his sweats and wasn’t letting go. 

He sighed and cast his eyes to the ceiling. “This isn’t kibble, you know.”

Dyad gnawed on the cotton like his life depended on it. Rey stifled a giggle in the sleeve of her sweatshirt. 

“ _Please_ let go before I accidentally step on you.” Ben reached down to pry the kitten off, but Dyad had other ideas. He released his teeth and sunk his claws into the sweats instead. With a hiss, he proceeded to climb up Ben’s leg.

The kitten managed to scamper to his thigh before Ben grabbed him around the belly and pulled. Dyad blinked innocently and did not let go. 

Ben raised an eyebrow. “You really want to do this? Mommy’s going to be very upset when she finds out you were mean to Daddy.”

 _Mommy and Daddy._ Rey melted. For a second she could imagine him scolding a pint-sized kid who refused to let go of his waist. A kid with chocolate smeared at the corners of their mouth and hands sticky with leftover glue from an arts and crafts project. A kid who would giggle at the funny faces they made, who would snuggle next to them in bed during storytime, who would make grabby hands because they wanted just one more kiss. 

_Their_ kid. 

“Mommy’s not too upset, actually.” Rey stepped into the living room. 

Ben’s eyes snapped over to her. His chest heaved with a relieved breath. “Oh, thank god—“ 

Dyad meowed pitifully and threw himself to the floor. He raced over to Rey and leaped into her arms. 

“Good kitty,” she crooned, stroking his little head. “Was Daddy neglecting you?” She glared playfully at Ben over Dyad’s head. “Was Daddy being mean?” 

Ben gaped and threw open his arms. “He was _attacking_ me.” 

Rey lifted her kitten so they were eye-to-eye and pouted. “He just wanted some attention, isn’t that right, cutie?”

He meowed again, green eyes flashing, and Rey fussed over him for a minute, aware of Ben’s low grumbling. She rolled her eyes. _Men._

He muttered something under his breath when she kissed the tip of Dyad’s nose. 

With a raised eyebrow, she asked, “What was that?”

Ben pouted and leaned against the arm of the sofa. “I said, you’ve never kissed _my_ nose like that.”

Rey bit back a smile and gently lowered the kitten to the floor. Dyad staggered on his tiny legs and then took off for the kitchen, tail streamlined behind him. 

“Well, you’ve never asked,” she said, poking his stomach. The muscles flexed and hardened, and he let out a soft grunt when she slid her arms around his waist. 

“I’ve definitely inferred,” he countered, tilting his chin up imperiously. Fooling no one, as he was still pouting. 

Rey suppressed a laugh. She was on a success high—the appointment had gone so unbelievably well, and she was beyond relieved it was over with. First steps were always hardest. 

She rose to the balls of her feet and pressed a light kiss to the underside of his chin. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Don’t be upset with me. Dyad’s a baby, you know, and babies need affection.”

“They’re not the only ones,” he mumbled, giving her a look like she’d stepped on his favorite toy. Just shy of devastated.

Now she _did_ laugh. “Aw, poor baby. Poor fully grown adult baby.” She mimicked his pout, and his lips quivered at the edges, laughter threatening. 

Rey gently gripped the back of his neck and applied pressure. He lowered his head, and she immediately pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“How’s that?” Without waiting for an answer, Rey covered every inch of his nose with kisses, taking extra care to part with loud, obnoxious smacks.

“You taste yummy,” she informed him, kissing him briefly on the mouth before lowering herself flat. “Have you been using my lotion or something?”

“If you mean the Warm Vanilla Sugar body wash in the shower,” he said breathlessly, kissing her palms, “then no, absolutely not.”

They wrestled for a minute, both trying to subdue the other with kisses, but a loud bang from the kitchen startled them apart. Alarmed, Rey pried herself from her boyfriend’s arms and raced into the kitchen, skidding on the tiles. Ben was right behind her and crashed into her back. They both staggered, but he caught her around the waist and managed to balance them in the doorway. 

“Oh, cutie,” Rey cried, catching a glimpse of Dyad as he raced out of the room, tail tucked guiltily between his legs. There was an overturned pan on the floor that he’d obviously knocked from the stovetop. 

Ben slowly walked over and picked the offending object up. Pointing it at her, he said grimly, “This is what you get for coddling our child.” 

She planted her hands on her hips with a mock scowl, even as her heart missed several beats. Hearing him say _our child_ was bizarre in the best way possible. 

“Coddling? _Me?_ ” she demanded. “Oh, Ben. Oh no. Listen. _You’re_ the one who insists on overfeeding him. I mean, _two_ cups of kibble is not starving him, Solo.”

He opened his mouth, affronted. “He’s a growing boy! I—“

Rey tilted her head. It was only then she noticed the gift bag on the kitchen table. There was sparkly silver tissue paper blooming from the top.

“Um—“ she said, cutting off Ben’s heated rejoinder. He was _very_ serious about Dyad’s diet. “What's that?”

Ben seemed to catch hold of himself. He grinned, dimples popping. Rey had to grab hold of a chair—she wanted to _lick_ them, damnit. Like she'd done for an obscene amount of time last night. 

“Oh, that?” he said casually, placing the pan back down on the stovetop. “I’m not sure.”

She huffed. “Don’t be coy. If this is another one of your it’s-not-your-birthday jokes—“

“No,” he interrupted, still grinning. There was a tinge of nervousness to it that convinced her he was telling the truth. “I promise it’s real. No prank. It’s for you.”

She pursed her lips but edged over to the bag anyway. It was very rare for her to receive gifts of any sort—birthday or otherwise—and she wasn’t too proud to admit she got very territorial about them. Her fingertips grazed the tissue paper. 

“Go ahead,” Ben encouraged, yanking out a chair at the kitchen table. He sat down and crossed his arms. 

For a very brief moment, Rey was distracted by the muscles in his forearms and biceps. She was constantly reminded—not that she ever truly forgot—how big her boyfriend was. He dwarfed the kitchen chair, and his hands were so large and veined that her mouth watered, as if by some weird Pavlovian instinct. She wanted to climb him like a tree. A very handsome, very nubile tree. 

Ben coughed and snapped her out of it. Thankfully. She could’ve gone on thinking about his stomach and thighs and neck for days. All the little moles on his body were like beacons, calling for her to kiss and nibble them until Ben couldn’t stand it anymore and pinned her under him, knees forcing her thighs apart, body pressing down on hers like a hot, insistent weight, and when he used those lips of his to—

Shit. She was doing it again.

Rey shook her head, blushing, and tore into the tissue paper, flinging it aside like a little kid. She’d never gotten very many gifts before the age of seventeen, so she took her joys where she could. 

Impatient now, she shoved her arm inside up to the elbow—it was quite a large bag—and latched on to something curiously fuzzy. She yanked out—

“A plushie?” she exclaimed, holding it in the air, eyes widening. “Stickers!” Then, “Stickers?”

Ben was watching her with a smile she'd never witnessed before: soft, vaguely guarded, and brimming with eagerness. Or maybe pride. “You mentioned he’s your favorite villager. From that, uh, Crossing game.”

“He _is_ my favorite villager!” She hugged the multicolored bear to her chest, beaming. She was so touched that she couldn’t even nag him for pretending to forget the name of the game. “You remembered!”

Ben laughed. “Of course I remembered.” Suddenly serious, he added, “I remember everything you tell me.”

She gazed at the plushie. It was relatively big, roughly the size of a Build-A-Bear. Stitches the villager was orange with vibrant sections of green and blue and purple on its arms and legs, with a star-patterned tank-top and little X’s for eyes, which might have seemed creepy to some Animal Crossing players but not to her. 

She’d always been wary of teddy bears, because...well, a fellow foster kid had once told her that the government installed cameras behind their beady black eyes. Preposterous—even ten-year-old Rey had known that—and yet she’d never quite been able to get it out of her head. That was why Stitches appealed to her so much; he didn’t technically have eyes. 

Which, okay, _yeah,_ that sounded incredibly strange. But she loved him anyway. 

She hugged the bear again and planted herself in Ben’s lap. He quickly unfolded his arms and slid them loosely around her waist. Rey kissed the tip of the bear’s nose, then turned and did the same to Ben. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, still staring at the bear. “How did you even manage this? You haven’t left the house in days!”

He kissed her forehead and lightly poked the bear’s cheek. “This is an _I’m-proud-of-you_ gift, and because you won’t stop asking me until I give you an answer, I have one-day shipping and delivery. Ordered it yesterday.”

Rey’s mouth formed an O. _That must’ve been expensive._

As if he could read her mind, Ben nuzzled the side of her head and murmured, “Don’t go overthinking this, sweetheart. Your reaction alone was worth it.”

“Okay," she said slowly, "but, like, how much was it? For the record, I’m _not_ overthinking, I’m merely asking.” She was overthinking.

He growled and playfully bit her earlobe. “Don’t ask me silly questions and I won’t give you silly answers.”

“Okay, Dr, Seuss,” she snorted, fingering the bear’s paws. “But just know there is very likely a one-day delivery for you in the near future.” She frowned, glancing towards the living room. “Well, maybe not _near_ , but like, in six months or something. When this is all over.” 

Ben hummed against her cheek. “About that—"

“Oh, I almost forgot!” 

They spoke at the same time, their words jumbling together, and Rey flushed, secretly relieved. She had not, contrary to her own words, forgotten. She had simply been putting off the inevitable. 

Ben raised his eyebrows. “You first.” 

“Uh—no, that’s fine. You go.” She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She was none too eager to share that she’d dumped some very private information directly into a stranger’s lap. Ben was going to be mad—she could already tell. How? Well, if _she’d_ been the one in his position, she would’ve been Mount-Vesuvius-erupting levels of pissed off. 

“Why don’t we go into the living room?” 

Rey bounced up out of his lap, eager for any excuse to avoid talking. “Sounds good!”

She scuttled into the living room, tripping on the edge of the rug as she did, and half-sat, half-fell on the sofa. Nestling into the cushions, she drew her legs up and settled Stitches in her lap like a plump yet fuzzy baby. 

Ben clicked the remote and flipped to a news channel, lowering the volume for, she assumed, background noise. The gesture softened her—of course he’d remembered that she felt better when there was a low, soothing murmur to fill the silence. Feeling grateful, she clasped his hand tightly, intertwining their figures. Her brain predictably went to mush at the size of their hands—one of his fingers was nearly twice the size of hers. 

_Big_ , her libidio grunted. Like a sexually-deprived cavewoman. (Had cavewomen been sexually deprived?) _Big man is big._

_Focus,_ she snapped at the drooling voice, and it went blessedly silent. 

Rey shifted on the couch and raised her chin. “Either you go first, or we do three rounds of rock-paper-scissors as a long-winded way of making you go first.” She smiled sweetly. “You decide.” 

He grumbled what sounded like, “I don’t get how you always win,” before sighing and giving her a patient look. “As you wish, my love.”

Her heart thumped, but she snatched her hand back with mock outrage. “What happened to sweetheart?”

He blinked, obviously confused. “You don’t like that? I’ve been thinking of expanding my repertoire of nicknames for you. Sweetheart is a bit, I don’t know, overdone, isn’t it?”

She pushed her lower lip out. “But I _like_ sweetheart.” 

“Oh! Well. Okay, we’ll keep using that.” He looked panicked and tried to recapture her hand. 

“Promise?” she said threateningly. Pet names were very important to her, and she really appreciated the ones they were already using.

Although, come to think of it, she didn’t have one for _him_ , did she? 

“Can I call you _my love_?” As soon as the woods left her mouth, Rey wrinkled her nose and poked out her tongue. “Okay, nope, never mind. That doesn’t work for me. How about…” 

The pause stretched on and on...and on. The background hum of the TV didn’t do very much to fill it, either. 

“Clearly, I’m out of ideas,” she said with a sad sigh. “Boo? Benny Bear?” A laugh exploded out of her. “ _Benny Bear_? Oh god, who _am_ I?” 

Ben ran a hand down his face, laughing too. “I see you’re stuck on B names, for some reason.”

She shrugged and adjusted Stickers in her lap. “I like the alliteration.”

He reclasped their hands, giving _her_ a warning look this time-- _don't you dare pull away_ \--and shook his head. “Well, think about it. But don’t think too hard because I have a proposition for you.”

She gasped, free hand flying to her chest. “ _No_ , I will _not_ have sex with you in the backyard, Ben!”

“ _What?_ ” He looked as if he’d just been smacked upside the head with a baseball bat. 

“Oh.” Rey settled. “I thought it was something, you know…” She peered over her shoulder at Dyad, who was rolling around with a ball of lint, and whispered, “ _Sexual_.” 

“Your mind,” he said slowly, “is truly an enigma.”

“You _did_ say proposition, Ben. It’s not my fault you’re using misleading language.” 

Ben sat up and gestured to his phone on the coffee table. “Do you want me to look up the definition of proposition? Because I will do it. I will do it _right now_ , Rey.”

She giggled and drew their clasped hands towards her so she could bite the tip of his thumb. “If you insist.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes dark, lips twitching at the corners. “I think I will.”

In seconds his phone was in his hand, the browser pulled up to a blank window. He quickly typed in a few words and arrived at the site for Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary. 

“Proposition,” he read aloud, squeezing her hand. “Noun. ‘A suggested scheme or plan of action, especially in a business context.’” He gave her a pointed look and moved to put the phone down. 

“No, no!” she argued, grabbing it out of his hand. “Look here. _Verb_. ‘Make a suggestion of sexual intercourse to someone—‘“ She broke off, laughing. “Oh god. ‘Especially in an unsubtle or offensive way.’”

“Was I offensive?” Ben demanded.

Rey couldn’t answer for a full minute as she tried to get her laughter under control. “Of course not! But unsubtle…”

He huffed and rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Conclusion. We’re both right.”

“Fine. I concede.” She sniffed and patted the top of Stitches’ head. 

“Fantastic.” Ben tossed his phone to the opposite end of the cushion. “Now can we _please_ move on?”

“Oh, yes! What is this _proposition_ you speak of? If it does not, in fact, refer to sex.”

She waggled her eyebrows to hide her blush, and even though Ben grinned back, the tips of his ears went pink. They were both _so_ stupid. 

On the television, the governor of their state appeared on-screen for the daily briefing. At first, during the beginning of quarantine, Ben had kept up religiously with each update, but these last few days had proved incredibly distracting for them both. He’d stopped pacing in front of the TV, anxious to hear the latest news of the virus. Ever since that first day when they’d sat on the sofa and watched a particularly gloomy broadcast—but then, they were _all_ gloomy, weren’t they—Rey had shied away from the updates. She wanted to maintain her peace of mind more than she wanted to be over-informed. 

“So.” Ben licked his lips and glanced at Stitches. 

Rey grimaced. “Wait, is this bad news?”

“No.” He gently stroked her cheek, fingers twitching. “I don’t want to make you anxious, so I’m just going to say it. Move in with me.”

Her smile remained in place for approximately three additional seconds before the words hit home. Then her expression faltered, and she stared, slack-jawed, at Ben, sure she’d misheard. 

“ _What?_ ”

His chest rose and fell quickly. “I mean—shit. I should’ve asked, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you want to move in with me?” 

Her mouth worked, but nothing seemed to come out. Eventually, after ten more seconds of excruciating silence, she managed, “I need—“ and broke off. 

_I need an explanation. A reason, at least. A bullet-pointed list. A PowerPoint presentation. A stiff drink and at least five hours under a weighted blanket._

“You want me to move in?” she whispered. “With you? Here?” She whipped her head around, as if only just realizing what _here_ meant. “Your house? _Here?_ ” 

Ben swallowed audibly and shifted on the couch, obviously unsettled by her rising pitch. “I know it’s sudden. Probably too sudden. But I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I’d just—I’d really prefer you to be here. With me.” He smiled and tapped her knee. “In my house.” 

She shook her head rapidly, then—at his look of crushing disappointment—nodded like her hair was on fire. “No, no—I mean, _yes_ , I want to! That’s—uh, I mean—will we be roommates, or like—“

“ _Not_ roommates,” he said sharply, covering her mouth. Her eyes widened. “Rey, I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but I do know that you will be sleeping in my bed. We’ll use the same bathroom," he listed calmly, "eat breakfast and lunch and dinner at the same time, watch TV together at night, and a thousand other things because you are my girlfriend and I love you.”

He said this all very slowly and carefully, which she appreciated. Yet the first words to make it out of her mouth were, “Not at the same time.”

His brow furrowed, confidence faltering. “What?”

“ _We’ll use the same bathroom_ ,” she quoted, “but not at the same time. I’m not sure about you, but I will _not_ do that weird couples thing where one pees and the other—“ 

He gently grabbed her by the shoulders. “Does this mean yes? Are you saying yes?”

Rey laughed and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Of course I’m saying yes! Oh, and the fact that you said this might be _too sudden_ is such a _you_ thing to say, by the way. We’ve been friends for _three years_ , Ben! What about that is sudden to you?”

He shook his head, dazed, and she crawled into his lap, maneuvering Stitches so he wouldn’t be crushed between their bodies. Rey kissed him lightly on the mouth, not wanting to upset him even more. In fact, it seemed she might’ve broken him. 

“Just to be clear,” she said with an imperious tilt to her head, “I absolutely want to move in with you, and once you’ve extended that offer, you can’t take it back.” 

He huffed a breathless laugh and kissed her roughly. “Joke’s on you. Once I have you here, I won’t let you go. And if you try, all I can say is—good luck.” 

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Rey teased.”A threat? Because—“ A line from the governor’s speech snagged her attention, and she abruptly cut herself off. 

“However, as the two-week shutdown nears its end and the number of cases and subsequent deaths has continued to increase, I’m forced to extend the quarantine for an additional month. This, unfortunately, is only a formality. Based on the information we’re getting, the quarantine will very likely endure far behind that.”

Rey sucked in a slow breath and turned back to Ben. His eyes darted between her and the screen, pupils expanded like he was absorbing far too much, far too quickly. Her stomach did a slow, nauseating roll. 

“Uh,” she said weakly, “kidding.” 

“About what?” His voice was calm, but she knew him well enough by now to know when he was unsettled. 

“You can rescind the offer.” She laughed weakly and looked down at her plushie. “Considering the circumstances.” 

He frowned. “What?” 

“The move-in offer? That we were just talking about?” Rey bit her bottom lip, tearing skin. She tasted blood. “Listen, maybe we should hold off. If the quarantine’s going to be extended for months or...longer—“ She swallowed and tried not to consider what that would do to her already precarious mental health. “Anyway. We don’t need to be hasty, right? There’s no rush.”

Ben shifted her on his lap so they were face-to-face. “Sweetheart. What did I say?”

Uh. Hm. She tried and failed to bring up something relevant. 

He worked his jaw and slid a hand to the back of her neck. “I said that once I have you here, you’re not leaving. I don’t kid around with that kind of thing, and...You’re here, aren’t you?”

Rey tried to smile. Time to be an adult. “Ben, this is serious. A huge decision. I mean, do you know how many marriages and friendships are going to end because of this?” She took a deep breath. “Relationships only work because there’s interference. Jobs and kids and after-school activities and friends and appointments. Without that, people are going to go _crazy_. Besides…” 

She trailed off, realizing she was on the verge of a true tangent, but Ben was listening attentively, his expression serious. Encouraged, she added, “Besides, I have no idea what’s going on with my job. What if I get laid off or even fired? I won’t be able to pay for rent or food or _anything_.” She was getting really worked up now because duh—money problems were the bane of her existence. “I can’t just stay here for free. That’s not right, I don’t—“

“Rey.” Gently, he placed both palms on her cheeks and maintained eye contact. “Breathe, please.”

She breathed.

“Listen to me. I’m only going to say this once, and by that I mean I will probably repeat it at least thirty times because I love you and you need to hear it. Okay?”

She nodded. Okay.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said simply. “You and me, Rey. Rent, food, our jobs, this quarantine, Dyad’s appetite—he needs at _least_ three cups, and I’m unwilling to negotiate on that—whatever else. We can handle anything. I know it’s scary, and this whole thing is no joke, but I want you here with me. I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning. I want it to be me and you and our slightly overfed cat because we’re a family, and families stick together.”

“Families stick together,” she repeated, mesmerized by his eyes. They were a beautiful amber brown. The best eyes. Her favorite eyes. 

“That’s right.” Ben brushed a kiss over her lips. “And I won’t let you go. I mean, I _will_ —“ he amended “—I have to, don’t I? But I won’t let you go _far_.” 

“Okay,” she said, swallowing again. She was so _thirsty_ today—what the hell? Not dick-thirsty, either--that was a constant state. Regardless, he’d done it again. Snapped her out of her funk and showed her—gracefully, lovingly—how silly she was being. “You're right. Just _please_ stop saying you’ll fatten up our cat. Enough is enough.”

He rolled his eyes and exhaled. “As I said—nonnegotiable.”

Rey wrapped her arms around his big chest, hugging him tight. He breathed in the scent of her hair, and for a time they were quiet save for the low murmur of the TV and an occasional meow from Dyad. 

The governor’s briefing ended, and Rey glanced out the nearest window. The storm clouds had already drifted past. Now it was only partly cloudy—no rain after all. Maybe things were looking up. Well, aside from the indefinite period of quarantine that now loomed over the entire country. Yeah, aside from that.

“Your turn.”

Rey tilted her head back to stare up at him. “Are we playing a game?”

“Not yet,” he said with a wicked smile, and she instinctively clamped her thighs together. Ah, shit. Her panties were going to get all messy again. “You mentioned something earlier, something you wanted to tell me.”

Rey froze, all her excitement leaching out of her in a wave. 

“Oh.”

Right.

Best just to get it over with, then. 

She decided to take a page out of Dr. Mothma's book. “I’m going to preface this by saying I didn’t tell her anything but the basics.” Rey smiled, but it must’ve been more of a horrified grimace because Ben looked extremely alarmed, so she let it fall. 

“Her?”

“The doctor. Dr. Mothma.” Rey twisted her hands nervously in her lap, unconsciously picking at a ragged cuticle. “You didn’t ask me how it went.”

“I know.” He stroked a hand over her hair, fingers tangling in her buns. “I didn’t want to push you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be there. Also,” he added, wagging a finger, “I didn’t forget your water. When I came back upstairs, you were talking so fast, I didn't want to interrupt.” 

She nodded. That was what she’d assumed, but it still gave her a satisfying amount of relief to hear him admit it. (The assertion that he'd be there, not the water thing. Though she still really fucking needed some water.) “Okay. Well. It was good. The meeting, I mean. I told her all my symptoms and spoke a little about my childhood, but I didn’t want to get really into the details. It’s still...kind of early for that.”

“I understand,” he said softly, placing a hand over both of hers to stop her from picking and pulling at her skin. 

Rey gritted her teeth. He was being so _kind_ , and that was a big problem because she knew she was in the wrong here. “Ben.”

He simply watched her, and she struggled to maintain eye contact.

“You’re going to be mad at me,” she said in a breathless whisper, then laughed bitterly. “It’s okay. I know you are. I just need to—“

When she paused, Ben didn’t immediately fill the silence. He let her work through it. 

“We talked about you,” she said softly, unable to hold his eyes. “Dr. Mothma mentioned how...brave...it was of me to seek help on my own, and I told her I wasn’t alone. I told her you’re the one who finally convinced me to do it. She was very impressed.” 

“It was a team effort,” he murmured, and a smile ghosted her lips. 

“Maybe.” She twisted her mouth and jerked her fingers under Ben’s grip, but he only clamped down harder. Frustrated—mostly at herself—she continued. “I told her that I don’t want you to struggle as I’ve been struggling.”

Rey paused, but Ben didn’t say anything.

“So,” she breathed shakily, “I asked her to talk to you. We spoke a little about your parents and their...passings. How you’ve struggled with handling it. Dr. Mothma thinks that, um, maybe you should talk to someone too. She said it sounds like you’re repressing a lot.” Rey winced and hastily added, “I didn’t tell her much, I promise! Ben, it’s—I just don’t want you to be in pain if you don’t have to be, and I was—I saw an opportunity to help us _both_ , and I—“

Rey shook her head, staring down into her lap. Ben’s hand was very white on top of her own. He was still, too—like a statue made of flesh and bone. Guilt surged in her chest. 

“I know it was wrong ,” she whispered, holding back tears. Now was really not the time for crying. This was _her_ fault, and she had to deal with the repercussions. “I should’ve discussed it with you first. I’m—“

 _Don’t you dare say an idiot_ , a stern voice--a new one--commanded. _Don’t you dare, Rey. You are not an idiot. You made a mistake. We all do._

Rey breathed slowly in and out. The voice was right, and Dr. Mothma had mentioned something about her inner critic being too vocal. “I’m sorry,” she said instead, raising her eyes to his face. “That’s such private information, and I—I should’ve gotten your consent. I’m sorry.”

Dyad scampered into the living room, claws prickling across the carpet, and when he saw Rey on the couch he dashed under the armchair like he’d never seen her before in his life. _Dramatic furball,_ she thought with an intense flash of love. She bit her lip and watched anxiously as Ben unfroze.

He rubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes. Neither of them moved for a long minute. She gently extracted her hands from under his and intertwined their fingers. _Don’t hate me, she begged him silently. Don’t leave. Don’t send me away. I'm so sorry._

“You should’ve asked me first,” he said finally, voice like gravel—rough and unsteady. 

“I know. I wish I had,” she whispered, watching his face. “I’m sorry, Ben.” 

Her apologies were useless, she understood that well enough, but they were all she could offer. 

He ran his free hand through his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands. His expression unsettled her—he didn’t seem upset or angry. Not even annoyed. He was just...blank. She hoped this just meant he was processing.

“I’ll understand if you need some time to think,” Rey added uncertainly, rising from the sofa. He didn’t try to pull her back into his lap, and her throat went so tight she almost choked on a cough. 

She hugged Stitches to her chest, shuffling awkwardly as she watched her boyfriend stare out of the window opposite the couch. His hands lay upturned on his thighs like he was unsure how to use them. Her heart ached.

She didn’t know how to handle this. She didn’t know what to do. 

“Ben,” she said, and waited for him to turn slowly to face her. She itched to step towards him, close the sudden distance and place her hand in his open one, but she also didn’t want to make this whole situation worse. She’d done enough. Instead, she told him, “I love you. What can I— How can I make this better?”

Ben stared at her for several endless seconds before he rose to his feet. In two strides he was in front of her, and then his arms were crushing her to his chest. 

She managed to contain her gasp, but she couldn’t help a small squeak as he squeezed her so tightly she could barely breathe. 

“I love you,” he said, “and right now I just need to hold you.”

Confused, Rey simply nodded and let him do what he needed. She would crawl on her knees through a carpet of nails if that was what it took to make things right. The thought of anyone hurting Ben was nauseating. The thought of _her_ causing him pain—even so much as a papercut, let alone the tsunami cresting right here—was enough to make her want to lay down and sleep for a hundred years. Ben in pain was a nightmare. Ben in pain because of her was like death itself.

Stitches crushed between them, they swayed side to side for a while, wordless and stuck in their own heads. Rey recognized that the thing she’d done was bad, but if Ben didn’t talk about it at some point, she’d have no idea _how_ bad. That uncertainty was horrible. Rey liked to know how things were going, and being kept in the dark on any matter was not great for her mentality. 

But she endured.

Dyad scurried around their feet, meowing and throwing his tiny body against their legs. Clearly, he wanted attention. Or maybe he was hungry already. With a small smile, Rey inched her toes over to a plastic ball and lightly tapped it to the far side of the room. Her kitten went flying after it like a bat out of hell. 

“I’ll do it.”

Startled, Rey jerked her head back to stare up at Ben. His face was set, eyes apparently normal. She should probably be relieved, but she had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Um—"

“I’ll schedule an appointment with Dr. Mothma, like you did,” he elaborated, playing with a loose strand of her hair. “We’ll talk. Maybe she can give me some recommendations.”

“For...therapists?”

He grimaced. “Can we call them counselors?”

“If you want,” she said eagerly, wanting so badly to please him. To make it up to him somehow. “Counselors, then.”

“Counselors.” He nodded, and a small smile pulled at his lips. “I hate it when somebody other than me is right.”

This surprised a laugh out of her. “Well, if I’m still moving in, you’d better get used to that.” 

His eyes softened, and he dipped down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “You’re still moving in. That is an offer that may not be rescinded. It is un-rescindable.”

“Not a word,” she murmured, tears in her eyes. This time they were happy tears. He wasn’t kicking her out or abandoning her because she’d made a mistake. He still loved her.

“It is now.” Ben sighed into her hair and added gently, “But next time, please ask me before you do something like that, Rey. At the very least, I need a little warning.”

Properly scolded, she nodded into his chest. “Won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” His voice was low and quiet, and she held him closer. “I needed a push. You’re probably the only one who could’ve succeeded.”

“Poor Uncle Chewie.”

He snorted. “Chewie’s idea of therapy is shooting down animals for sport in the woods and calling it a day.” 

She winced. “Well, uh, if it works for him…”

“Apparently it does,” Ben said, mystified.

Dyad meowed then, and when they glanced down, they saw their kitten sitting between their feet, blinking owlishly. The lint ball from earlier was off to the side. 

Ben sighed. “All these toys and he wants the clump of dust.”

“Naturally,” Rey said, smothering a laugh.

“This cat,” he grumbled, but bent down to pick up the lint ball. With a hefty toss, he sent it flying across the room, Dyad hot on its tail.

Ben turned back and kissed her hard, lips lingering long enough to make her breathless. She swiped her tongue across his bottom lip and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Someone else deserves a kiss, too.”

Bewildered, Ben simply blinked.

She held up her plushie. “You crushed Stitches!”

“Oh, dear.” Ben pulled his lips into an exaggerated pout. “Poor inanimate object.”

Rey gasped and clutched the bear to her chest. “How _dare_ you! Stitches is _very_ upset now.” 

He tugged gently on a fuzzy green arm so she would relax her grip, and—keeping his eyes on Rey—kissed the crown of the stuffed bear’s head.

“Will that do?”

She nodded jerkily. “That is...satisfactory.”

“I’m glad,” Ben said dryly. His eyes flickered over her face. “Why don’t I make lunch and you can tell me more about Dr. Mothma?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “I might talk your ear off though. We both had a lot to say about those space movies, though, so get ready for a very comprehensive rundown.”

Dyad approached with tiny, excited hops and dropped the still intact lint ball at Ben’s feet. The kitten sat back on his haunches and blinked up at him. 

“Looks like you’ve made a new game.” Rey tugged on his sweater, biting her lip. 

Ben cocked his head and stared right back at the cat. “Are we really doing this? With a lint ball, of all things?” 

Dyad did not move.

Filled with love for them both, Rey turned for the staircase. She liked the upstairs bathroom the best because of the little handcrafted soaps Ben bought from Chewie. They were shaped like various midwestern tree leaves. Besides, there was a cup of water on her bedside table, and she didn't want any witnesses to the absolute mayhem that was about to unfold when she gulped it down. 

Halfway up the stairs, Rey pursed her lips and glanced down. In the living room, Ben was on his knees, face inches from Dyad, who was swatting playfully at his nose. 

“Honey?” she called, but right at that moment, the kitten let out a gigantic sneeze. 

Rey frowned and decided against that nickname. She did actually like one he'd already called her a bunch of times. Maybe...

“Baby!”

Ben’s head whipped up, and even from so far away she could see his pupils dilate. She waved a dismissive hand, yelled, “Never mind!” and continued mounting the stairs. 

She smiled. That was the one.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey needed to do this next part by herself.

After lunch, she kissed Ben on the tip of his nose—that was her go-to spot now, since he was so adamant about it—and ruffled Dyad’s head on her way to the staircase. Heart in her throat, she placed her hand on the bannister and began to climb.

Ben had simply given her a curious look when she announced she’d be upstairs for an hour or so, but when she shook her head wordlessly, he had nodded and given her a slight smile. It might’ve been the subtle head tilt, or maybe the brief flick of his eyes to the ceiling, but Rey suspected her boyfriend had at least a vague idea of what she intended to do. 

They had never spoken about it, but it was Ben's closet after all--he knew every nook and cranny, and it wouldn't have taken him very long to spot something was out of place. 

In their bedroom, her hand on the knob to the closet, Rey breathed steadily in through her nose and out through her mouth. She concentrated on the moment, on being present for the here and now. _Here_ , in Ben’s house. Soon to be hers too, she reminded herself. _Now_ , on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, with her boyfriend and her fur baby settling down to play another round of Chase The Lint Ball in the living room. 

She pushed open the door and flicked on the overhead lights. Ben was meticulous—his dress shirts were color-coordinated and neatly laundered, his slacks were folded neatly over the hangers, and he even had a small but elegant display of cufflinks, watches, and belts in a glass case. His casual clothes were arranged on the opposite side, again by color but also by brand.

Rey rolled her eyes affectionately. What a dork. 

She slowly walked over to a small table and sank to her knees. There on the bottom shelf was her final test. Her finger grazed a can of tuna, and she had to brace herself against the wave of numbers that threatened to break over her. Seeing it all was one thing, but physical touch made it that much harder to resist. 

Her stockpile.

When she was eight years old, Rey had an idea. The foster family she’d been living with at the time was two squabbling parents and three squabbling kids. Two of those kids had been biologically the parents’ which meant Rey and the other kid were the interlopers. Fights raged all the time, but inevitably the “real” kids won. Because they belonged. Because their parents backed them up. When Real Kid Number One claimed Rey had stolen all the snacks out of the pantry, the parents had demanded evidence. But Real Kid Number One mentioned that, conveniently, Rey had already eaten it all. 

So what did they do? Punished her, of course. 

For once, Rey had not wanted to just sit back and take it. For once, she'd wanted to fight back. But how? She couldn’t attack the kids—they would always come out on top. She definitely couldn’t attack the parents—they would just shove her off to a new foster home. How could she win against people who were destined for it? How could she win when the odds were always unfairly stacked against her? 

The answer came to her one sleepless night, fully-formed and brilliant like a billboard in neon. 

She would win _in secret_. By taking from these people without their knowledge. She would steal from them as they stole from her. She would win by holding this information close to her chest and living with the fact that no matter what they did or said, no matter how bad it got, Rey would always have this secret. She would always, in some small way, win. 

Thus, the birth of the stockpile.

Those first few weeks were dedicated to strategizing. Where to place the items so no one could find them. When to grab the items without drawing notice. How to transfer them from the kitchen to her bedroom. Rey enjoyed the problems—they involved numbers and timeframes, and although she had never been top of her class, she was also not entirely dumb, as people liked to suggest. Finally, after lots of double- and triple-checking, Rey was ready.

But the day she made her move was also the day she was transferred to another temporary home.

Thwarted again.

All her work, come to nothing. Her carefully laid plans, undone. Despair threatened, but instead of tears, Rey allowed herself anger. She let it sweep over her, consuming and devouring, until it turned to a cold rage. 

She would not allow her hard work to go to waste. She would not allow herself to give up. She would fight.

The stockpile at her new house grew rapidly in size. Four cans to twelve to thirty. In no time at all she had a veritable cache. From foster home to foster home, Rey would start from scratch—or near enough, if she managed to stuff a few packets or cans in a backpack or tote. She made mistakes along the way, but eventually she managed to refine her system until it ran like a well-oiled machine.

When she was feeling stressed or anxious, Rey would reorganize and count the food items until her brain and pulse steadied. If she was upset, she would trace the concentric lines of a tuna can or read all the ingredients on a rice packet. She came to depend on the feelings the stockpile gave her—security, belonging, hope. Never again would she go hungry. Never again would she starve because the ones responsible for her wel- being did not care enough to try.

In all those many years, from age eight to twenty-one, her stockpiles had never once been discovered. She had always been, after all, thorough. 

“There’s always a choice,” she whispered now. Rey had to keep reminding herself of this because if there _wasn't_ choice, if she was forced to disband the stockpile, she would resist. Unconsciously, sure, involuntarily, yes—but resist she would, and her progress would be halted, maybe indefinitely. She would place even more emphasis on the stockpile than she already had—she would grow too attached—and any disbandment would prove fruitless. 

_I have a choice, and I am choosing to let go._

She would not starve. She did not have to protect herself. She would survive without it.

Rey began.

Even as she drew the food items from the shelf, she kept her system in place. Old habits die hard, after all. Cans on the left, packets on the right, miscellaneous in the center. Tuna and rice and beans and potato chips, all neatly stacked and accounted for. In total, she tallied sixty-five items, which aligned with her last headcount. 

_Okay,_ she told herself, _so far, so good. You’re doing great._

Oddly, Rey was very calm. She didn’t see a reason for this—in fact, she had very much expected to be forcibly removed from the closet, perhaps kicking and screaming at Ben to _let me go, please just leave me alone, I need to count, I need to know!_ A meltdown, she had anticipated. This calm was something else. Something new.

Rey shifted and pulled open the first tote. Ben kept a stack of them under the kitchen sink because _reusable bags are better than plastic ones, Rey._ She could imagine his tone perfectly—indignant and faintly lecturing—and it made her smile. Such a dad. She never would have pegged Ben as a save-the-earth type even two weeks ago, but apparently there were still plenty of surprises in store for the two of them.

Ten minutes was all it took to fill three totes with her stockpile. Looking at them now unsettled her. Organized like this, out in the open, made her realize for the first time that the stockpile had only ever been a comfort, not a necessity. It never would’ve kept her from starving. It wasn’t big enough to last more than a month at most. 

But maybe that was what young Rey needed. Just a month more to survive. Just a week. Just a _day_. 

She licked her lips and folded the handles over her hands. The bags weren’t particularly heavy—the chips took up a lot of space—so she carried all three bags out of the closet and down the stairs. Working methodically, almost on autopilot, Rey walked out the front door and strode to Ben’s truck. It was unlocked, and she opened the back door and tucked the tote bags between the driver’s seat and the center console. Then she closed the door and leaned her back against it.

 _I did it._ Rey stared at the sky. She was sweating. _I did it._

_Then why am I crying?_

Tears streaked her cheeks. They fell so fast and so furiously she could barely see. The puffy white clouds peppering the sky were nothing but blurred smudges. She smelled spring flowers and listened to the rattle of cicadas. A light breeze tousled the loose strands of her hair and raised goosebumps on her exposed skin. Even under her hoodie, beneath her leggings, she trembled. Not cold, just feeling too much.

 _That_ was why she cried. _That_ was the reason for the tears. Because this was a letting go. This was a final chapter to an unbearable story. This was a rebirth, a freedom, a step forward.

This was a new beginning

Rey watched as her boyfriend opened the front door and descended the few steps to the lawn. He kept his eyes on her as he approached, and she didn't move, not even to hide the tears. She was a mess, an implosion happening in real time, but she did not cower or shy away, she did not bend or hunch inward. 

She would stand tall and bear it because she could. She _was_ strong enough. Even though it hurt, even though it felt like she might crack in two, she knew now that she was strong enough to handle it. 

“Hi,” she croaked, and tears dripped down her neck like rain on a window glass. Slow and directionless, pushed on by more and more and yet more still. 

“Hi,” he said gruffly, fingers twitching at his sides. 

There was sunlight in his hair. Inky black and shiny and soft like downy feathers—god, she loved his hair. And those hands, those _fucking_ hands, oh, what they did to her. Hands that stroked her sides when she was upset, that cradled her face before he kissed her, that wound pieces of her hair around a long finger when he just wanted to be connected to her somehow. Shoulders that folded to protect her and stiffened to block out the world, legs that intertwined with hers when they lay in bed together, a chest so broad and hips so deliciously narrow and strong that she would spend all day licking each and every line and crease if she could. His mouth—that _mouth_. She loved his mouth, too, of course. A mouth that drove her to insanity, to the edge of dreams and fantasy, a mouth that made promises and spoke words of breathless encouragement, pride, love. Eyes that were always searching for her, always watching for her next move. Eyes that said, _I know you._ Eyes that said, _I love you._

Through her tears, Rey managed a watery laugh. “You’re so handsome, Ben.” 

“I’m—“ He bit his lip, which did nothing to hide his smile. “And you’re beautiful.”

She shook her head, grinning from ear to ear, even as she sniffled and swiped tears with the back of her hand. “Now might not be the best time to say that.”

He moved forward and took her hands. “Now is the perfect time to say that.” 

She laughed, the sound wet and somehow tired. "You're such a romantic.”

“I only speak the truth.” Gently, he swiped a thumb under her eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s done. If I—think about it for too long, I might—"

He nodded slowly when her pause turned into a long silence. 

She might take it all back. 

Rey reached for him, and Ben was there at once, bending down to lift her around the waist, settling her into his chest like a prized thing. She clung tightly as he walked them back into the house, Dyad mewling curiously as they passed him in the living room. 

“Take me upstairs,” she whispered into his neck, cheeks still streaked with tears. 

“On it.”

He didn’t close the door when he swept into their bedroom. Laying her gently on the bed, he undressed her one article at a time, starting with his hoodie. They both laughed as they struggled to slide her arms from the sleeves, and the laughs turned into sighs as he shifted between her legs, kissing and caressing the sensitive skin of her hip bones and inner thighs. 

The sighs turned to moans as he licked his way to her center, dragging his tongue through her folds and along her slit, pushing her to the very edge and dragging her back before she fell over. Again and again and again until she was a sobbing, sweaty wreck, begging shamelessly for release. 

They took their time. Hushed whispers and smiles pressed to the curve of a neck. The slow but rhythmic creaking of the bedsprings as they joined, all hazy thoughts and lingering touches. Heat coiled in their bellies and sat simmering like burning embers. An arched back, a slow roll of the hips, a tremble in the lips. Gasping as their bodies reached a crescendo, a wavering chorus, voices pitched in wordless ecstasy. 

Moans, and tears, and kisses that scorched a clear path to their hearts. An _I love you_ as her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled tight. An _I love you_ as he breathed fire across her collarbones. An _I love you_ repeated a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, as they crescendoed again. 

Declarations. Promises. Laughter and yet more tears. A hand stroking a hip, clutching a shoulder, raking a back. A hand slipping into hair like silk, dipping between parted legs, pinning sweat-slicked wrists to sheets cloud-white. 

This moment would never end. This moment was now and then and always. A fresh start or the continuation of a last chapter. On and on, stretching limitless. Knowing all the while that _she_ was not alone, and _he_ was not alone, because they were together at last, and together was infinite. 

The third time—or maybe by that point it was the fourth, neither of them could quite remember—was far less elegant and far more _messy_ than the first. Frantic, desperate, wild, it was chaos and harmony all rolled into one. 

But they were together, and together was infinite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **one chapter left and i cry**
> 
> **idk it really matters a lot to me that they get a happy ending in fic ok!!!**


	18. May The Force Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes get a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤️

** One Month Later **

** Day 45 **

Rey sank to her knees on the carpet and shook her head. "Oh, I see we've gotten started early today."

Somehow, there were already three lint balls corralled in a corner of the living room, but Rey expected to have at least a baker’s dozen before nightfall. Dyad had an unparalleled sense for dust collecting, which amused her to no end.

“Guess we can forget about investing in a vacuum.”

Ben, who’d been blankly staring at the smattering of spilled Cheerios on his otherwise pristine kitchen floor, had blinked. “I object.”

She’d pointed with her spoon. “Overruled.” 

Thus the entirety of their breakfast was spent analyzing all the many ways in which Dyad may or may not be a viable alternative for a vacuum.

Now her boyfriend was upstairs, switching from Zoom call to Excel spreadsheets to email, busy and back-logged but effective as always. Several days after the governor’s announcement, Ben’s employer called and told him to expect to work from home for the foreseeable future. With a dark, furtive glance at Rey, he’d promised this was an arrangement that would be more than suitable for him.

His lunch breaks were more often spent in the bedroom with her than in the kitchen. They had a lot of catching up to do, after all.

Fortunately for them (but maybe not for anyone else), there was no end in sight for this quarantine. The country was now looking at months instead of weeks in lockdown. 

_Un_ fortunately for Rey, she was out of a job.

The diner, like most restaurants, was in dire straits. Since there was no work for her to do remotely, her employer had reluctantly been forced to lay her, Rose, and most of the other employees off. Six months of unemployment was better than nothing, but it wouldn’t help her in the long run.

Rey was only upset about this because it put so much pressure on Ben. His was the only income, and normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but since there were now two people and a feline living in his townhouse, the stakes were a bit higher. 

She’d offered to move elsewhere for the time being or find another job, but Ben had adamantly refused. He’d even gone so far as to lock her in their bedroom—which wasn’t ideal considering he was in there too. Then he’d thrown himself on top of her so she couldn’t leave, which would’ve been an admirable if ineffective measure, except he’d used his tongue to convince her, and all thoughts of leaving had fled for good. 

“No, no,” she scolded, crawling across the carpet to poke Dyad in the side before he leaped onto the sofa. “He’s not for you, munchkin.” 

The kitten was _obsessed_ with Stitches, who reigned in a permanent spot on the sofa in anticipation of late-night cuddles. Rey had already caught Dyad with his little teeth sunk in a fluffy purple paw. His eyes usually took on a feral glint when he saw the stuffed bear, as if they were two mortal enemies come face-to-face at last. 

Rey picked Dyad up around his soft belly, tickling him even as the kitty writhed and squirmed, eyes narrowed. “Leave Stitches alone,” she implored, flicking an ear. “He’s done nothing to deserve your wrath.”

A chime sounded from the kitchen. Rey tucked Dyad under her arm like a football and made a beeline for her phone. She smiled when she saw the name on the display. 

“Is it that time already?”

“Panic o’clock?” Rose Tico sighed dejectedly. “I’m sorry, that was so bad.”

“I’ve heard better,” Rey admitted, wandering back into the living room. As soon as Dyad caught sight of Stitches, he thrashed like a madman. She rolled her eyes and sank down on the sofa. “Find anything today?” 

“Grocery store bagger, GrubHub driver, warehouse worker…” Rose listed, sounding more depressed with each job posting. “I mean, Grubhub driver doesn’t sound _so_ terrible, right? I won’t have to talk to anyone.”

“Rose.” Rey flicked Dyad’s ear again. He was hissing at the bear. “You don’t have a car.”

Her friend lived in the middle of the city and could pretty much get anywhere by walking. Which would normally be a good thing, except for when she needed to go more than thirty blocks.

“Oh.” Rose groaned, and she heard frantic clicking. “Right. I swear, ever since this whole thing started I’ve lost more than a few brain cells.”

This Whole Thing. That was how the two of them had come to refer to the pandemic, quarantine, joblessness, and life in general. This Whole Thing was just ambiguous enough to cover it all.

“Tell me about it.” Rey shifted Dyad in her lap, eyeing his tiny paws. “Yesterday I tossed two eggs in a bowl when I was making cake batter. Two eggs, Rose. _Uncracked._ I just heaved them in there like a couple of golf balls.” 

She guffawed loudly, and Rey had to pull the phone away from her ear before Rose blew out her eardrums. 

Ever since that day about a month ago when Rey decided to take a chance and respond to Rose, the two of them had been talking almost nonstop. They texted or called each other daily with updates about their job search—well, _Rose’s_ job search—complaints about their boyfriends—Rose had recently started dating a much older man named Hux—and just general save-me-from-this-boredom chatter. Whenever they spoke, Rey felt a lightness in her chest that had been missing for years, a lightness that Ben had put there, that Rose was helping to solidify. 

“Listen,” Rose said, lowering her voice. “I have a question. Like, an embarrassing one.” 

If _Rose_ said it was embarrassing, Rey knew it was going to be a tough one. “Uh, okay.”

Rose swallowed audibly. “So you know I moved in with Hux recently, and we’ve been having pretty nonstop sex. Like, a _crazy_ amount.”

Okay, then. Yes, Rey did know this, although she dearly wished she didn’t. She had a difficult time imagining the brusque, steely-eyed Hux engaged in anything other than tapping furiously away at a keyboard, muttering obscenities at his employees under his breath. 

“Uh-huh,” she said, making a face at Dyad. Getting fed up with his antics, she let him loose, but before he could pounce on Stitches, she lifted the stuffed bear and planted him firmly in her lap. 

“Well.” Rose inhaled. “See, he’s...kind of…”

“Please spit it out,” Rey interrupted, glancing around the living room. Dyad, seeing his prey snatched from his grasp, had escaped upstairs. Probably to wreak havoc on his father. “You’re making me anxious.” 

“ _He wants to try anal!_ ” Rose blurted, then started, inconceivably, to pant. 

_Oh. My. God._ Rey’s face instantly burned an unattractive tomato red. She didn’t need a mirror to know she looked like she was on fire from the inside. 

Although their romantic relationship was still relatively fresh, Rey already knew that Ben was very interested in trying….uh….behind-the-scenes action. For one, he was kind of obsessed with her butt. Which was flattering, until he tried to stick something in it.

“Oh god.”

“ _I know!_ ” Rose exclaimed, still whispering. “Have you and Ben—?”

“Not yet,” Rey muttered, flushing to the roots of her hair. Thank god Ben was still upstairs, locked away in his study where he had no chance of overhearing this conversation. Thank _god._

Rose squealed. “Oh my god, but you think you’re…?”

“Probably soon,” she admitted with a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but it’s… I don’t know.” 

“I’ve heard it’s strange at first,” Rose informed her matter-of-factly, “but after a while it feels really nice. Hux has asked me twice already, but I’ve shied away from it because….”

“I totally get it,” Rey said, smiling a little. Never in a million years would she have imagined herself having a conversation like this with a friend. Or anyone, for that matter. 

“Wow. Okay. I’m relieved,” Rose laughed. “Some people are into it, others avoid it like the plague, but I’m sort of in the middle, you know? I want to explore, but...slowly.” 

“Just make sure you tell Hux that. He won’t push you.” Rey didn’t really know if he would or not, but for all his mumbling and griping about work and life in general, he seemed totally and completely smitten with Rose. 

“Okay, okay, moving on!” Rose sounded flustered. _At least I’m not the only one._ “Any plans for today?”

Rey shrugged and cast a quick glance upstairs. “Not really. Aside from unpacking, my day’s free.”

Rose gasped dramatically. “Are you all moved in? Officially?”

A smile teased at the edges of Rey’s lips. “I am officially mooching off my boyfriend, yes.”

“Don’t be like that!” Rose scolded. “He understands the circumstances.”

“I know he does,” Rey admitted, picking a few stray threads on Ben’s hoodie. She practically lived in his clothes now. “And I’m so freaking happy, Rose. I get to see him every day. I get to _touch_ him every day.”

And she did. Frequently. Just to confirm that he was real, that this life wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. She was living with her boyfriend, her long-time best friend in the whole world. Just last week they’d finalized the lease termination. She’d only been on a month-by-month lease—more so because she was never sure if she would be able to make rent next month, let alone half a year ahead—so it worked in their favor. 

Rey had bid her apartment a fond farewell, but as soon as they crossed the threshold for the final time, she had thrown herself into Ben’s arms and laughed herself silly. 

“I’m happy for you,” Rose said softly, and the sentiment touched Rey’s heart not only because her friend was comfortable enough to say it, but because Rey could _hear_ it in her voice. Rose truly meant it. “You deserve it.”

Rey swallowed hard and fought against her instinct to bat aside the compliment. She’d only started her meds a week ago, but already she could tell she was less paranoid and on-edge. Still, there was a lot of work to do, and most of it involved what Dr. Mothma called her inner critic. 

“Thanks, Rose,” she said finally. There was a muffled bump from the second floor. She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Dyad is, to the surprise of no one, creating more mayhem.” 

“Oh, I believe it.” By now Rose knew all too well what kind of adorable demon Dyad was turning out to be. “Oh,” she continued, voice darkening, “and I’ll send you that meme I was talking about earlier.” 

Rey groaned and covered her face. “You’re never gonna let me live that down.” 

“Listen, Rey.” _Uh oh._ Rose was in Very Serious mode. “When I reference a meme, you’d better know what I’m talking about or there _will_ be consequences.”

“I’ll do my best to expand my knowledge of meme culture.” Rey rolled her eyes, but she knew she’d do some light researching later. After all, it wasn’t like her schedule was especially full right now. 

They said their goodbyes and hung up, and Rey resettled Stitches on the couch before bounding upstairs. She peeked into the study to see Ben on a Zoom call, then padded down the hallway, where she was instantly distracted. 

Her laptop was already open on the bed. Rey gleefully threw herself down on the mattress and clicked through her sci-fi blog. Ever since she’d posted reviews of the space movies she and Dr. Mothma spoke of at her appointment, the blog had been getting a ton of traffic. She really enjoyed reading comments and occasionally posting a running commentary on new ideas she thought of and interesting theories for future projects. 

The blog was doing so well, in fact, that she’d received some serious offers for paid advertising. She’d declined, of course, but it gave her hope to know people were paying attention. If she posted about other things, maybe people would listen. 

There was a fantasy and science fiction-themed bookstore a few miles from the townhouse, and Rey had considered applying there—well, whenever they reopened, which might not be until the fall. There was an attached cafe too, and with Rey’s waitressing experience, she could very well get a job there if the bookstore didn’t work out. She was also interested in volunteering at the animal shelter, although if any _paid_ positions opened up, she was more than willing to apply for one too. 

The future suddenly didn’t seem so bleak. 

Instead of the usual day-to-day drudgery that had defined her life since childhood, Rey had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. 

Everyday she woke just after dawn, and the first thing she saw was her boyfriend, hair messy, face peaceful in sleep, lips so kissable she couldn't resist pressing a soft finger to his Cupid's bow. 

She had a kitten to take care of, to scold, to play with, and occasionally to spoil. (Okay, _usually_.) 

She had a blog to run and friends to keep up with—Finn and Poe liked to terrorize her at least once a week—therapy to start and a job search to keep her busy. 

For the first time in her life, Rey didn’t feel alone. For the first time _ever_ , she looked forward to tomorrow. 

She bounced down the stairs, noticing the wide open door of Ben’s empty study. Dyad greeted her with a tiny, curious _mreow_ , and she patted the top of his head before skidding into the kitchen. 

There he was.

As always, Rey was temporarily starstruck. 

Ben was at the kitchen counter, putting the finishing touches on a very overstuffed sandwich. He was dressed casually in a dark shirt and jeans—she’d finally managed to convince him that slacks and suits did not meet the work-from-home dress code—and his hair was brushed back in that way that suggested he’d been running his hands through it. Frequent Zoom calls with the HR department seemed to do that. 

Rey stepped up quietly behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He didn’t so much as flinch. “What’s on the menu today, _monsieur_?”

“Oh, _parle vu francais_?” 

She huffed and poked his stomach. “Okay, showoff. Not all of us took French class for six years.”

He shrugged, the movement rolling down his spine and sending shivers through Rey's entire body. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. Not everyone has a penchant for language.”

“Only the arrogant ones,” she muttered, pressing her face between his shoulder blades.

“Touché.” Ben carefully maneuvered two plates over to the table. Paper plates this time, as per his sudden go-green initiative. Some people jumped on the homemade sourdough bread trend in quarantine, but not Ben. He'd decided his job was to protect the environment at all costs, even if it meant buying flimsy plates and reusing the cardboard center of toilet paper rolls. Rey was already working on a plan to change that. 

Deciding she preferred her food dust- and fur-free, Rey released her hold on him so he wouldn't drop the sandwiches. Her fingers itched to touch him as soon as he moved out of reach. If anything, this quarantine was making the two of them extremely codependent, which might be an issue later on, yeah, but that was a problem for future Rey. 

She plopped down in the seat opposite Ben and rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Okay, so!” she exclaimed, eager to get going. The sooner that sandwich was in her mouth, the better for everyone.

Ben leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to continue.

“Let’s see. A Ciabatta roll with—“

“Bread.”

Rey frowned. “What?”

“Ciabatta _bread_ ,” Ben emphasized, raising an eyebrow. 

She shot him a warning look. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.” 

He grumbled but waved his hand.

“Ciabatta bread, thinly sliced turkey breast, two slices of provolone, two pieces of turkey bacon, some lettuce—romaine, right?—a slice of tomato, two teaspoons of garlic mayonnaise, and a sprinkling of bleu cheese.” She clapped her hands with a smug smile. “Am I right or am I right?” 

Ben sucked at the corner of his mouth to keep a smile at bay, but she could tell he was pleased. “Very good. Except for the ciabatta bread, you aced it.”

“Fucking ciabatta,” she muttered under her breath, popping a chip into her mouth. 

“Those are—“

“Store bought, I know,” she interrupted. Then, lightly, “No one will think less of you because you didn’t hand-make them, Ben.”

He flushed, so she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Gratefully, he squeezed back. 

Rey’s first therapy appointment was in two weeks. The doctors wanted to wait until the medication had time to kick in before starting on the next step. She was already learning quite a bit from Dr. Mothma, with whom she saw weekly for follow-ups. Ben, meanwhile, would start therapy in a few days, and although he hadn’t said a single word to suggest it, Rey could tell he was extraordinarily nervous. She was determined to see him through it, just as he had seen her through all her many worst days. 

When he overcompensated—like thinking a handmade meal from scratch was the only acceptable lunch option—Rey tried to make him aware of it. He didn’t need to strive for perfection. He was already perfect.

“Aren’t you proud of me?” she demanded, drawing him out of his head. 

Thankfully, he took the bait. A smirk edged the corners of his mouth. “Of course I am. Although, I would feel better if you were over here.” He patted his lap.

Rey suppressed her own smile and nodded seriously. “Ah, yes, apologies.”

She slid her plate across the table and eagerly followed, sinking into his lap like she belonged there. Because she did, thank you very much. Ben was a hands-on type of guy, and if he went more than an hour without touching her, he tended to get very cranky. Did someone say codependency? No? Oh, okay good. 

Rey swung her legs between his, chomping down on the sandwich. Lately Ben had taken to teaching her how to cook, as her cooking skills were woefully incomplete. Microwave? Her best friend. Oven? Sure. Instant rice-cooker? Yeah, she could manage. 

Food prep? Absolutely not.

Before every meal, Ben tested her on the ingredients, and she usually managed to get them all right. Just because she didn’t cook did not mean she didn’t know food like the back of her hand. But Ben was patient and kind, and he often rewarded her with kisses, which she very much appreciated.

Like now.

“Slow down,” he murmured, trailing a line of kisses up the side of her neck. His hands fisted in the material of her sweatshirt, tugging her against his chest. “You’re going to make yourself sick, sweetie.” 

Rey, around a mouthful of bread, mumbled, “No sick. Only eat.”

“Okay, cavewoman,” he said dryly. She sensed an eye roll but couldn’t be bothered to check. It was sandwich time, damnit.

Still, she made a concentrated effort to stop and sip from her water glass every fourth mouthful. She really didn’t want to get sick, and thanks to an awkward moment last week when she inhaled seven chocolate frosted cupcakes in less than ten minutes and promptly vomited all over the downstairs bathroom, she was inclined to slow down. Sometimes—she would never tell him so—but _sometimes_ Ben knew better. 

She mumbled around another mouthful, but he shook his head. “In English, please.” Carefully, he extracted her half-eaten sandwich from her garlic-slicked hands and set it down. 

She swallowed and swiveled in his lap, innocently ignoring his small grunt. “What did you do today?”

“Investment-making,” he deadpanned, yanking a napkin across the table. He gently dabbed at the corners of her mouth, then moved on to clean her hands. 

She wrinkled her nose and swatted him away. “I know _that_. I mean, market analysis? Mergers? Oh, what about any new acquisitions?” She winked and elbowed him in the ribs. “Acquisitions, am I right?” 

Ben laughed and nuzzled her temple. Her eyes slid sideways to her sandwich. It was watching her. Begging to be picked up and smothered in her mouth. 

“I see you’ve been doing some reading.” Ben licked the corner of her mouth where a dab of garlic mayonnaise had smudged. 

Oh. Rey blinked. Oh, yes, she liked that. _Much_ better than a napkin. 

“That book is, uh, dense, let’s say.” Rey winced, recalling the tome that was _A Random Walk Down Wall Street._ Seriously, he couldn’t have picked some lighter reading for her first foray into the world of investing? She was doing her best to learn, but damn was it boring. 

“Did you get to the part about A/P and A/R functions?” 

“Uh.” Rey bit her lip. “No? Ben, I’m still on chapter two. Like, barely past the introduction.” Hoping to distract him, she held the sides of his face between her palms and kissed him. “Do I have any more sauce on my mouth?”

His eyes raked the lower half of her face. “All clean.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure? I think you might’ve missed a spot.”

He needed little encouragement. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he licked a wet stripe across her mouth, grinning when she burst into uncontrollable giggles. They went back and forth for a time, and just as Rey was gaining the upper hand, he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder and leaned back, panting. 

“We keep this up for much longer,” he warned, “and I might need to take a half day at work again.” 

Ah. He’d already taken a week’s worth of half days in the past month alone. 

Rey kissed his cheek demurely and swiveled back to face the table. If she wiggled her ass more than was absolutely necessary, that was somebody else’s problem. 

Ben muttered something under his breath—either “blue balls” or “new halls,” it was too close to tell—and slid his hands beneath the hem of her hoodie. _His_ hoodie. Whatever. His big palms lay hot and heavy on her stomach. 

“Hey.”

She hummed through another mouthful of romaine and turkey breast. He would let her eat, or so help him.

“Guess what.”

Rey bit back a smile. This was an old game.

“What?”

“Guess,” he ordered, moving his palms up to cup her breasts. He was probably more grateful than she was for the lack of a bra. 

“Hm.” Rey sipped from her water glass. “You’re going to sneak Dyad a third cup of kibble later?”

“That goes without saying. Guess again.”

“Ah, you want to teach me yet again how to knit, and yet again I will disappoint.”

Ben huffed into her neck. “I refuse to give up. You will learn to make a scarf, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Rey arched her back as he began kneading her breasts, her eyes sliding to half-mast. She _loved_ his hands. “One more guess?”

“That’s right,” he said softly, planting gentle kisses across her collarbones. 

“I wonder what it could be,” she teased, pushing her ass into his lap. He was already hard, and if she kept going they would once more test the limits of the kitchen table. So far it had proven quite sturdy.

“Say it.”

She sighed as his thumbs brushed her sensitive nipples. The pleasure was so sharp she hissed through her teeth. There was one job on this planet Ben was never allowed to have, and that was a masseuse. She was the only one permitted the magic of his hands. 

“Rey.” His voice lowered in warning.

“You love me.”

He gently bit the side of her throat, rolling the skin through his teeth. She gasped and bucked in his lap, already deliciously wet. The seat of her panties was soaked, and the dampness was already beginning to seep through her leggings. 

“Again.”

“You love me,” she rasped, grabbing his forearms as his hips bumped up once, then twice. 

“We have a winner.” He mouthed at her throat, hands gliding down her sides to rest on her hips. “I love you and I like you.”

“I love you and I like you too,” she breathed, squirming in his hold. The slow thrusts and his roaming hands were driving her fucking _wild_. She wondered how it was possible he hadn’t already burst through the zipper on his jeans. 

“Do you need to come, sweetheart?” 

She nodded frantically. “Yes, please.”

“Right now?” he murmured, pressing down on her hips as he thrust up. His cock hit just the right spot through her leggings, and she saw stars. 

“ _Ben!_ ”

He didn’t waste any time. With a swipe of his arm, he shoved aside their plates and cleared the kitchen table, then laid her flat on her back. She was already gasping, chest on fire with need and pent-up frustration, and he yanked her leggings down and off her legs like a man possessed, ripping the fabric near the hip. His jeans fell to his knees, and then he was positioning himself between her spread legs, cock brushing her soaked folds, and with barely any effort at all he was inside her. 

She slammed her eyes shut and twisted her fingers in her—his— _their_ sweatshirt, spine arching off the table as he began to move. A couple slow thrusts to get her ready, and then he was bending over her, body crushing her own into the wood grain as his hips pummeled hers, cock sinking so deep with each stroke her eyes rolled. 

“ _Please, Ben—_ " 

This time was quick. He forced her hands above her head and pinned them to the table, his mouth seeking hers. They moaned together, climaxes fast approaching, and Rey’s legs dug into the backs of his thighs, desperate to push him deeper. Their hips slapped again and again, the noise grower louder each time as their arousal mixed and drenched her thighs. She babbled senselessly for him—she wanted him closer and deeper and faster and rougher—and when he bit down on her breast she came with a shrill scream. Hips jerking, eyes fluttering, Rey surrendered to sensation, moaning for him. 

“I love you,” he panted, grinding his hips into hers, emptying himself until the flow ebbed and ceased completely. "So much, Rey." 

“I love you more.” 

“Mm. I love you most.” Ben nuzzled her neck, kissing the fresh hickies and small bruises that dotted the skin of her throat. She was always covered in them nowadays, and when they took infrequent trips to the store, she bore them proudly, reveling in the stares and raised eyebrows. These marks meant she was his, that she belonged to him. 

Rey swallowed down a laugh and stroked her hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles flex. “So the table held up again.”

“This is my favorite table,” he said seriously, and now she did laugh. “We are never getting rid of it.” 

Her head thunked back on the wood. “I’m okay with that.”

Reluctantly, Ben slipped out of her, his big hands trailing down her chest and settling on her belly. They no longer used condoms, not after those first few days. She was on birth control, and from the very beginning there had been an unspoken understanding between them. They both very much desired children, and even though Rey was still relatively young, she didn't mind the possibility of pregnancy. One day soon they would need to actually talk about it—preferably before he knocked her up—but for now they wanted to enjoy the freedom of feeling every bare inch of each other when they joined. 

Ben scooped her up around the waist and carried her upstairs. “Shower?”

She nodded against his shoulder, and they spent the next hour half-heartedly cleaning each other. Of course, they were delayed a time or two—or three—but eventually they made their way downstairs, flushed but freshly showered. 

Ben had, inevitably, taken another half day.

Rey’s chest gave a small, pitiful pang when she glimpsed a can of pinto beans in one of the kitchen cabinets. Her stockpile was long since disbanded; they’d donated the food items to a women’s shelter in the city, and Rey had cried and smiled through the entire exchange, Ben holding tightly to her hand as the masked volunteers organized her food. Since then, she had occasional impulses to check on a stockpile that no longer existed, but generally she was doing okay without it.

Generally, she was doing okay. 

There was a time when this quarantine would have ruined her life. Maybe ended it too. Left alone in an otherwise empty apartment, stockpile under her bed, jobless and friendless, only able to contact Ben through touchy cell service, no distractions save for her laptop and a book or two—Rey would not have fared well. She knew this like she knew her own name. 

But that was a different life. 

She grabbed a bag of chips and flicked her wet hair at Ben when he commented, “You can’t possibly still be hungry!” In the living room, she gently brushed Dyad away from Stitches, who was staring blankly ahead as the kitten nibbled on his plump forearm. 

It was still only mid-afternoon. Too early for dinner, too late to urge Ben back to work. They’d probably watch a movie or another rerun of _The Office_ —they were on season four for the third time—but they would still laugh at the same jokes and fall in love with the same characters all over again like it was the first time.

This was a relatively simple life. But it was hers. She lived in a beautiful townhouse at the edges of a sleepless city with a ferocious kitten and a boyfriend who wanted to lay the world at her feet. There was food in the cabinets and a warm bed to sink into at night. There was love and hope and peace and belonging. There was laughter. Sometimes tears, but always followed by a smile or two. There were hard days and easy days and days that were in-between.

Ben settled next to her on the sofa, arm sliding around her waist, fingers pressing to the bare skin of her hip. The remote was in his other hand, the menu selection for _The Office_ already pulled up on the screen. 

“Where did we leave off?” He turned to her with a small smile on his lips, like it didn’t really matter. He settled the remote in her hand, their fingers overlapping on the buttons. 

“Episode ten, I think.” Rey kissed his shoulder, grinning when he did so they mirrored each other. Maybe they _were_ codependent, but who cared? That old white dude had it right when he said the greatest joy in life was to love and be loved. Cliche, maybe, but hey, that was love. 

Not everything was going to be rainbows and sunshine. There would be hard days— _impossible_ days—when the world felt too heavy and the air sank like lead weights in her lungs. There would be sad days when nothing seemed worth it. Angry days and bored days and downright shitty days.

But there would be days filled with hope, too. Sunlight and, yes, even an occasional rainbow. When it rained, she would remember that the plants were happy and fed because of it. When it got too tough to rise from the bed, she would remember that there were people waiting for her—people who loved her—and she would do her damnedest to meet them. 

Because they were worth it. All of them, and her too. So was this life. So was happiness. They would get through this hurdle—and the one after that, and the one after that—together. 

At the end of the day, that was how they’d make it. That was how they’d win. Not by fighting what they hated.

By saving what they loved. 

“Episode ten,” Rey repeated, smiling at the love of her life, who smiled right back. 

“Here we go.”

And together, they pressed play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Episode ten was deliberate btw 😉✌🏻**
> 
> **There we have it. Just shy of six months and this fic is officially complete!! I honestly can't believe it. This was the first Reylo fic I ever posted, and I'm surprised and proud of how far it's come. I struggled along the way, which for a story this size was inevitable, but I had a great time writing this version of Ben & Rey's happy ending. And there are thousands of them. Infinite happy endings for a couple who, as we speak, are probably cuddling somewhere on a cozy estate on Naboo in a galaxy far, far away.**
> 
> **Thank you to those who offered support and encouragement along the way, and I want to acknowledge those who were with me from very early on and always left such wonderful comments! ❤️**
> 
> [nayrria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayrria/pseuds/nayrria)  
> [ChristineWinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineWinchester/pseuds/ChristineWinchester)  
> [Hartmannclan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hartmannclan/pseuds/Hartmannclan)  
> [alemoa73](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alemoa73/pseuds/alemoa73)  
> [Rav69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rav69/pseuds/Rav69)  
> [altargaryen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/altargaryen/pseuds/altargaryen)  
> [annathe1andonly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annathe1andonly)  
> [Zombie_Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombie_Queen/pseuds/Zombie_Queen)  
> [MalinRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalinRen/pseuds/MalinRen)
> 
> **OTHER WORKS**
> 
> Fluff
> 
> [Saving What We Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328586) (complete)  
> [#dirtytextchallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771213) (oneshot)  
> [The Artist's Garden At Giverny (1900)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307039) (oneshot)  
> [Steal My Heart (There Are No Returns)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701381) (oneshot)  
> [Only By Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673103) (oneshot)  
> [Love Only Matters When We Bleed For It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415190) (complete)
> 
> Darkfics
> 
> [if you can't live without me, why aren't you dead yet?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361551) (WIP)  
> [drenched](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117876) (complete)  
> [I've Got A Dark Alley & A Bad Idea (That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814914) (oneshot)  
> [never bet the devil your head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609829) (complete)  
> [slowly therefore surely](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639642) (oneshot—for now)  
> [Chasm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962308) (complete)  
> [In Our Darkest Hour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810736) (complete)  
> [Stifle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24724003) (oneshot)  
> [Aggressive Expansion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568556) (complete)
> 
>   
> ~~say hi! (or come yell at me)~~  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)


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